Forbidden
by TheElsianPrincess
Summary: Clary lives in a world decimated by nuclear war. Her new job? Reproduce with a partner for 17 years. The catch? Don't fall in love. Clary has no problem with this system, until she begins having nightmares about a certain boy with gold eyes. When she finds she's Coupled with the same boy, her first reaction is terror. Is love worth the risk of death? AU/OOC. Highly Sexual Content!
1. Chapter 1

_**Hi! Is this something you weren't expecting? I bet it was. Here's my new fanfiction! WARNING: It is MUCH darker than Everything and Nothing, and it will be much steamier. Lots of lemons, as you can probably guess from the title. I'm very excited about this. It comes from the darker recesses of my mind…yikes. Dystopia meets porn meets Mortal Instruments.**_

_**Anyway, this story has already been written by myself as an original. It's not originally a fanfiction, it's a legitimate story. So, instead of Clary and Jace, their names are Elisse and Jaedon. Isabelle would have been Lyanna, and so on and so forth. It's just…erm…too sexual of an idea to, like, actually publish. So I hope you enjoy this!(I'm not kidding, it's going to get so explicit, so warning.)**_

* * *

_**Chapter Song: Broken Wings by Mr. Mister**_

* * *

_A hand over my mouth. Suffocating. Kicking. Trying to scream. Throat is raw. Being dragged across the floor. And yet…I can see everything around me. I can see him. He's across the room, lying on the floor, unconscious, blood the color of deep scarlet pooling around him._

_They shot his shoulder and missed his heart._

_It's funny. I always thought blood would be bright red. But it's not. It's crimson._

_I should be glad. I should be glad that they're killing me and not him. That he's escaped this. But I am selfish. I do not want to die. I do not want to be separated from this boy. I am so, so selfish._

_Maybe dying would be better. Better than being locked up in a dark prison cell for the rest of my life, separated from him. At least in death I can find escape. There is no escape for him. Maybe one day he'll forget about me. Maybe one day he'll move on. Maybe they're release him, and he can be Coupled like he should have been in the first place. Safe from me (and all the destruction I bring) at last._

_I rather doubt it._

_I have to live._

_I have to get back to him._

_I am selfish._

_I scream and kick and punch, but they have a tight grip on me, these White Guards. The elevator doors open up and I can hear a loud roar, like someone very large sucking in air through a thin straw. My eyes are wide open and I see the giant, black hole through the doors of the elevator, the wind whipping my hair around my face. _

_They're going to drop me down the hole._

_They have dragged me to the edge and are now attaching me to a large, claw-looking contraption. The claw tightens around my body and picks me up, holding my thrashing, squirming body over the giant hole. I can't see the bottom. I feel only terror, only a horrific, cold fear streaming through my veins._

_I look up at the boy, whose golden eyes are staring at me now, wide and desperate. His mouth is forming a word over and over again—my name, I think. I stop fighting the claw. "Jace!" I manage to scream._

_And then I'm plunging into the darkness._

* * *

"Clary! Clary, wake _up_!"

Something soft smashes into my face and I sit up abruptly, spitting and swatting away whatever is pressed against me. I blink slowly, squinting in the bright fluorescent light. "What the-?"

Isabelle is staring at me, her black eyes wide, a pillow in her hands. I scowl. "You could've just shaken my shoulder or something. You didn't have to smash my face in," I snap.

Isabelle just blinks. "Who's Jace?"

I furrow my brow. Something tickles the back of my mind… "Jace? Doesn't sound like anyone I know."

"Me neither. I've never heard of her, whoever she is."

I shrug and kick the scratchy wool blankets off of my legs. I remember having a nightmare…and the name Jace sounds familiar. But I don't remember my dream, and it's highly unlikely I ever will.

I've been having a lot of nightmares lately. They say that the dreams are a symptom of anxiety, normal for a girl who's just turned sixteen. Normal for a girl who's two weeks from being Coupled.

Isabelle tosses her pillow back on her mattress and helps me jump off of mine. She and I share a bunk bed in our Unit. In total, there are twenty beds in our Unit. Only eighteen are used now. We started out as a normal, full unit of twenty girls, but one girl gave in to hysteria when we were all thirteen and her bunk mate soon followed.

Such things happen. Some girls can't handle our society, the way it works. The nightmares become too real for them. They can't tell themselves that they're just dreams. That they won't really come true. That they won't really ever fall in love. That the Division has complete and total control and is watching out for their safety. They don't believe it.

I'm not even sure I believe it myself, but I know I won't turn into a sobbing, convulsing mess one day and have to be locked up in the Asylum. I refuse to.

* * *

Isabelle and I walk to the showers together, finding an empty stall and pulling the curtain shut behind us. I was ridiculously uncomfortable in the beginning, when we learned at the age of seven that we had to take showers with our bunk partner to conserve water. But now, I'm so used to it that I don't even think twice about it. We're best friends. As bunk partners, we're together for everything. For school, for exercise, for formal activities. Everywhere I go, she goes…along with the rest of our Unit.

In Idris, my country, when we're born, we're taken from our biological parents and put into a Unit Nursery along with nineteen other babies of our same gender. I'm not sure how they choose us, but I know it isn't random. It has something to do with intelligence and beauty and fertility potentials and such…Anyway, we're raised by Caretakers until we are seven, when all of us are moved into an official Unit Living Compartment. There we spend the next eleven years growing up together, going to the Unit School together, eating together, sleeping together, everything. Isabelle and the eighteen other girls in my Unit (excepting my Instructors and Madame Celine, of course) are the only people I've ever seen in my life.

Our country is split up somewhat complexly. In total, the whole country must take up about a thousand miles of land. It is split into five Divisions. In each Division, there are twenty five Units of girls, and twenty five Units of boys. The adults are off in some unknown Division of their own. Or at least, that's what we all assume. There are the men and women assigned the task of raising all of us. That's all we know of the grown up world.

When each Unit turns 16 (we all have one collective birthday), the girls and boys in their corresponding Units are Coupled. So, the Unit One girls are coupled with the Unit One boys and so on. When each Couple turns eighteen, they are given a large, private house, and no one except government officials and doctors bothers them until they are thirty five, the designated final year of Fertility. During those seventeen years, our job is to produce as many children as is possible, thereby replenishing our decimated population numbers.

See, a long time ago, there was a giant war, called the Global War, and it wiped out 90% of the human population. A bunch of educated Americans got together (supposedly. Rumors circulate the history classrooms that tell us it's possible that people from Europe, Canada, and the Middle East were included) and created the country of Idris. The Original Ultimate One (our sovereign ruler) wrote the Fertility Act, which basically demands us to do everything I have just described to you.

But there's a catch.

You can't fall in love with your partner. And you don't get to keep your children. Children are a burden on the Fertility Rate of a Couple, they say. I can't say I disagree. I wouldn't know the first thing about taking care of a baby. I don't even know what one looks like. And I'm not even sure I know what love is, so I'm confident I can't possibly fall into it. Falling in love is something to be terrified of. All it results in is misery and execution.

Ah, well. We all make our own choices, I suppose.

Isabelle and I finish washing up and we wrap ourselves in the thin, discardable paper robes the government provides us with every morning. We get back to our bunks and zip each other into our navy blue jumpsuits, with the gold, embroidered Unit 19 standing out over our hearts like badges of honor. I like Unit 19. 19 is a good number.

* * *

We join the rest of our Unit and walk down the dining hall, where the usual five tables of four have been set up and supplied with bowls of steaming hot oatmeal. Today, we find raisins on the top. I wonder what the treat is for.

Madame Celine stands at the front of the room, her navy blue dress sweeping the floor like a Cleaner's dust mop. Her grey-blond hair is piled atop her head in a bun, and her kind, aged face watches us girls eagerly, as if she can't wait to tell us something. Something has excited Madame. She clasps her hands together once we're all looking at her and she beams at us. "Exalted Morning, girls!" she chirps.

"Exalted Morning, Madame Celine," we all chorus brightly.

"I have a surprise for you this morning!"

"I knew it," Isabelle mumbles next to me. I can't help but smile.

"As you know, two weeks from today, you will all be officially Coupled with a young man from Unit 19, and you will begin the glorious task of repopulating the world in just two short years." She grins widely.

The girls have perked up, including me. I lean forward with the rest of them, not wanting to miss a word she says.

"You will not be meeting your partner in those dreadful jumpsuits, of course…so tomorrow…after your shower…you will find them missing from your beds."

The silence is shattered by the low, urgent murmur of teenaged voices, all whispering about the fact that is we have no jumpsuits, we have nothing to wear. Madame continues eagerly.

"In their steads, you will be wearing a skirt, a blouse, a sweater, tights, shoes, and yes, _undergarments._" Madame smiles at us like we are a group of beloved, small children, who are growing up too fast, and…is that an actual _tear _in her eye? Madame is one of the most dramatic people I've ever met…in my limited experience, of course.

The whispers escalate into the spoken voice, still talking about the same thing.

I frown. I like my jumpsuit. It's comfortable and airy.

Madame claps twice and the room goes silent. She nods at all of us. "I know it's exciting. You may all talk about it over your breakfast, but now, we must pray."

We all bow our heads dutifully, close our eyes, and fold our hands together.

"Oh great, exalted One of the Ultimate Discovery. We recognize you as the Salvation of human kind. You brought our species out of the ashes. You created a way for us to survive off the land still smoking from the nuclear bombs. We thank you now for giving us the means to live. We thank you for our meal this morning. And most importantly, we thank you for the Glorious Fertility Act, which has enabled us to grow as a community. May your spirit live forever within our system. Conclusion."

At the end of the prayer, the room erupts into one loud swell of voices. I turn to Isabelle, who is hiding behind the curtain of her dark hair, stabbing at her oatmeal with her spoon. I frown. Not much puts Isabelle out of sorts. "Aren't you excited to be wearing real clothes?" I ask.

She fixes her dark eyes on me for a moment. "No," she says finally. "I'm comfortable with what I'm wearing now."

I nod, relieved. "Me too."

We eat our oatmeal in silence, both trying to block out Maia and Aline's conversation about what wearing underwear must be like. My guess? Uncomfortable.

* * *

After breakfast, we have our classes. Today, our first class is the Anatomy and Physiology of the Reproduction System. It's a class we've been taking for two years now, and we will have to take it for two more years before we go off to live with our Partner and begin our job. Isabelle and I spend most of class using our styluses to draw ridiculous, inappropriate pictures of male anatomy on our DocTabs. We already know everything. Male enters female. They wiggle a bit. Baby is possibly made.

In fact, I'm drawing a rather…disfigured male part and snickering at it when a tall man with glasses and a clipboard enters the room and looks around at us. We all stare. We rarely see men, and we've never seen this man, and we don't know what he's doing in our classroom.

"Maia and Isabelle. Identification numbers 31008346 and 31007524."

Isabelle shoots me a panicked look and rises slowly from her seat, pulling at her sleeves nervously. She joins Maia and the man at the door. Something flashes in my eyes and I squint and look closer at the man. He has a badge on his white lab coat that says _Fertility Physician._

Oh.

This can only mean one thing, and it makes perfect sense. The nightmares, our Unit turning sixteen this past weekend, the new clothes.

Testing has begun. Isabelle and Maia have been chosen as the first girls of our Unit to be Tested.

Which means I'm next.

* * *

_**Okay! So. What do you think? I really really request that each of you review this. Just please tell me what your thoughts are, good or bad. I will reply to all of them.**_

_**The next chapter will probably be looking at Isabelle's testing, which will be…erm…graphic. Think, like, Literotica graphic. Fifty Shades graphic. Yeah, I told you my mind can be dark and inappropriate.**_

_**I'm not posting the next chapter until I deem that the number of reviews I get is enough. I have goals people! **_

_**Thank you so much for your interest!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_***coughs* I don't own McGraw/Hill. But thank you for lending me the name of your company.**_

_**This is where it starts to get a little…okay a LOT weird. But, if you ask me, aside from the whole 'We're going to test how you orgasm' thing, this is how sex ed should work. The girls KNOW what's happening, and they're not ashamed of their bodies. They're just nervous because it's unfamiliar.**_

_**Quick Note: The character relationship dynamics will be the same, but I'm afraid their personalities may be a bit different. That's because Lyanna, the original character, is different than Isabelle, just as Elisse is different from Clary. But you know, there's still Clace and Sizzy. Though, Jace and Jaedon are VERY similar. Elisse is a bit sillier and more sarcastic than Clary, and Elisse is a bit less impulsive. Elisse goes with her gut feeling, but she also thinks things through more than Clary.**_

* * *

_**Chapter Song: Alive and Kicking~Simple Minds**_

* * *

Isabelle's not talking to me.

Well…she's _talking _to me. But she's not telling me what I want her to tell me, which is what, exactly, they did to her during Testing. She's abnormally cheery, which is not how most girls come back from their Tests…or, well, so I'm told.

Maia's behaving normally. She's been walking around wrapped in perpetual gloom, and she's very, very pale.

They do tell us what they're going to do ahead of time, of course. It would be cruel and defiance against our Law if they didn't tell us what we were in for.

* * *

_Fertility Testing (McGraw/Hill, 2318) Chapter Thirteen: The Procedure; Page 167_

_Many girls experience feelings of uneasiness before their Tests take place. This is normal and expected. The part of the girl's body being tested has never been explored before, and many girls have been taught that these parts are intimate and personal, as they should have been taught. The only person (aside from the Fertility Department staff and your previous Caretakers) who will ever see that part of you will be your Partner. _

_To familiarize you with what will be happening, according to Law, and so you may prepare yourself for what is to come, we have written a play-by-play of the procedure you are to go through._

_A Fertility Physician will call you by both name and ID number, out of class, and you will not be returning until later that night, after all tests are run._

_Once you have left your class, your Physician will hand you a thin, opaque robe for walking around the facility. You will be requested to __**completely **__undress, and redress in the robe._

_You will be led to your Physician's laboratory, which is equipped with many machines, a viewing platform, and an examination table. Do not let this intimidate you! The Physicians do not want to harm you in any way and take the utmost care with each girl! _

_You will be requested to disrobe completely._

_This is where things may begin to be uncomfortable, and even embarrassing. _

_First, a female nurse will come in and rub your body with a simple, painless hair-removing cream. It's easier to do your exam when you don't have body hair obstructing sight or touch, and it could even make sex more pleasurable! This is a special cream designed by the Health and Reproduction Bureau, and once your hair is gone, it will not grow back for the rest of your life. Make sure none gets on your face or the top of your head._

_Your Physician will first feel your breasts. This is to check for any cysts, tumors, or other abnormalities that could possibly endanger your life. Breathe normally. Sometimes, throughout the entire procedure, it helps to stare at the wall if you are standing, or stare at the ceiling if you are laying down. It may even help to think of your duty toward the Original Ultimate One!_

_Your Physician will check other parts of your body—your reflexes, your flexibility, your heart rate, your lungs. All essential parts of living a healthy life and producing healthy children._

_Your Physician will then lead you to an ADM-All Detection Machine. This is perfectly painless. The machine takes a few high-powered images of your body, and detects broken bones, cancerous cells, tumors, and even hormones and chemicals!_

_Your Physician will then lead you to the examination table and take a pint of your blood for various blood tests. We must test for things like hormone levels, to see if any hormones are required to be added into your diet for maximum fertility._

_After, because you may be feeling rather faint because of the loss of blood, you will be given a sugary treat to get your energy levels back up!_

_When you finish your food, the Physician will have you lay down on the table. The Physician will strap your arms down to the table. This is for your safety and for the safety of the Physician, so you do not hit the Physician out of surprise, pain, or discomfort. The Physician will also strap your ankles into small stirrups attached to the table and spread your legs so that he or she may continue with the examination._

_The Physician will use a tool called a __**speculum **__to examine the inside of your pelvic area. It will be uncomfortable and possibly painful (BUT ONLY IF YOU MAKE IT SO). Please relax! It's easier for the Physician to make sure you are healthy, and it's more comfortable for you!_

_The Physician will then take a sample of cells from—yes, down __**there**__—just to make sure you, again, do not have cancer._

_This part will be the most uncomfortable part of your examination, but it is what you make it! It can also be the best part of your exam! As you have already learned, orgasms evolved as a fertility booster. That's right. When you, a girl, have an orgasm, it helps the sperm travel faster and more directly up the path to connect with your precious egg. So, this is where you'll learn what exactly an orgasm feels like, so you may know when it's happening when you are finally left alone with your Partner. The Physician will be __**watching**__, but not __**touching. **__He or she will strap a device called a __**vibrator **__to your pelvic area and turn it to a mild setting. Then, he or she will attach a machine to your vaginal tube, and the machine will time how long it takes for you to reach climax, how long your climax lasts, the intensity of the climax, and how many times your walls contract._

_Congratulations! You will receive your clothes back and you are allowed to go back to your Living Compartment to take a well-deserved shower and a nap! Your test results will be delivered the day before you are Coupled._

* * *

Say whatever you want about the 'callousness of the reproduction system,' but you have to admit…they educate us , they can't tell us exactly what an orgasm feels like, so…none of us really know what to expect.

Now, however, both Isabelle and Maia have experienced one, and Isabelle won't even tell me what it was like. And it's my turn tomorrow.

Madame Celine was dead serious yesterday, when she said we'd be wearing underwear today. When Isabelle and I return from our unusually quiet shower in the morning, our clothes are laid out on our beds.

There's a crisp, white button down blouse, a navy blue jacket with the familiar, golden stitching over the right breast, a blue and green plaid, pleated skirt, white tights, and black, high-heeled shoes…pumps, I think they're called.

"What, in the One's name, is this?"

I turn to see Isabelle staring, her nose wrinkled, at a thin garment hanging off her finger. It's made of navy blue lace, and it's very…stringy? Realization dawns on me. "I think that's underwear," I say, turning back to look at my own. There's also a…bra. A navy blue bra with little golden dots sprinkling the material like little stars.

"How am I supposed to _wear _this?" Isabelle says in disgust.

"Like this!" Maia flounces by, wiggling her butt in the air, in an infinitely better mood than she was last night. She's wearing the bra and the underwear, but the underwear doesn't cover _anything_! Her skin is smooth and perfect looking, and I'm instantly jealous. She looks amazing after her Tests. And she, apparently, feels amazing. What happened to the crazy upset girl from last night?

Isabelle frowns and slips the underwear on, quickly pulling her tights and skirt on over it. She seems…more gloomy than she did yesterday, and she still won't tell me anything, which irritates me to no end. How am I going to know what to expect if my best friend won't tell me anything?

I find out very quickly that the underwear is as predicted. It's uncomfortable. The bra isn't…the bra is fine, and, let me tell you, it really helps me. I'm, as my Pediatrician tells me, _blessed _in the upper region of my body, and the bra offers support I didn't know existed. But the _underwear! _How on earth am I to be expected to walk around with a strap of lace wedged between my butt? What purpose does it serve?

The skirt, tights, blouse, jacket, and shoes all fit perfectly, as if they were tailored to my exact size…which, I realize belatedly, they probably were. I feel ridiculously confident in these new clothes. Especially when I hear the heels clack against the concrete floor of the Unit. I pace the room, fascinated at this new noise, enjoying it to no end. Why have I never been introduced to this sound before? It's _glorious_!

After my fifth time circulating the room, Isabelle pulls me out of orbit, toward the door. "Come on, Clare," she says. "It's time for breakfast."

I make a face at her and pull my arm out of hers, choosing instead to stomp to the dining hall, thoroughly enjoying the clicky-clacky sound of my new shoes…Isabelle's annoyed face isn't bad either_. She's_ annoying_ me_ by not telling me anything. _I'm_ annoying _her_ by enjoying the sound of the click clacks. That's what I'll call these shoes. Pumps sound stupid, they don't pump anything. They are now called Clicky Clacks.

* * *

Madame Celine is awaiting us when we arrive to breakfast, beaming once again. First, I'm confused by her look of ecstasy and the girls' gasps…and then I see them. The tables, which usually hold our every day, ordinary meal of oatmeal, hold meals that we only receive on holidays and other special occasions. On each plate, there is a plate that contains all of the following: two biscuits with sausage gravy poured over the top, scrambled eggs, two strips of thick, fatty bacon, toast and jam, and pancakes with a little jar of syrup and a slice of butter. I gasp like the other girls and race to my plate, marveling at the food that is almost sure to make me feel sick if I eat all of it. I pick up my glass, next to my plate. It's my special glass, the one that has _Clarissa Adele_ painted in curvy, gold lettering on the side.

"Orange juice!" I exclaim happily. "Real orange juice!"

We only get orange juice on The Original Ultimate One's birthday anniversary.

"Please sit, girls! Lots to talk about today!"

We all sit, and after the prayer, the room explodes into flurries of excited talking. I turn to Isabelle.

"Izzy…" I mutter. "Why the hell won't you tell me what happened yesterday?"

Isabelle takes a sip of her juice and squeezes her eyes shut for a moment before replying. "Because, I've…I've been trying to sort myself out. My feelings. I don't…yeah. I've been trying to sort things out."

I frown. "What's there to sort out?"

She glances at me darkly before stabbing into her eggs and shoving a bite into her mouth.

I get the distinct feeling that she's trying to avoid the conversation. Too bad I won't let her. Too bad I'm 'annoying and stubborn' as Miss Melissa, my kindergarten teacher, told Madame Celine once. I take Isabelle's orange juice and move it out of reach before she can snatch it back. "Talk, or I'll drink your orange juice."

Isabelle, frowning, sets her fork down. She wipes her mouth delicately. "It wasn't what I expected, okay?"

"What the eff is that supposed to mean?" I ask.

Isabelle's eyes widen. "Clary," she hisses. "Shut up! We're going to get in so much trouble if Madame catches you cursing."

I simply stare until she gives in and talks again.

She sighs. "They don't…they don't tell you how _good _it feels in the textbooks, Clare. I mean, yeah, they tell you it can be pleasurable, and people like having orgasms, but…I mean, they don't tell you exactly how controlling one can be. Does that make sense?"

I shake my head. I'm intrigued. Highly intrigued.

Isabelle blows air through her teeth. "I just…I don't know. I lost all control of my body when it…happened. I couldn't see. I couldn't hear. I remember arching my back and I remember just…the most intense, indescribable feeling flooding through me. And afterward, the Physician was grinning and shaking his head as he was writing on his DocTab. And then he looked at me and said 'Isabelle…I do believe you've passed this part of the Tests with flying colors.' And then he just gave me my clothes and told me I had nothing to worry about. I'm just…surprised. We've always been told that this was our duty as citizens of Idris, but…well…I was never told I might actually like it."

This is good news. This is _very _good news.

"Ladies! Girls, please listen!"

The room quiets and we all turn curiously to Madame Celine, whose face has turned a bit red. Has she been yelling at us this entire time? How embarrassing…

She takes a deep breath. "Thank you. Goodness, you're all chatty today. No matter, I can guess why." She beams.

We all lean forward.

"As you all know, yesterday, Testing began! Changes are coming, and you all will quickly be shaped into beautiful, promising young women by the time your Coupling comes around. As we speak, the boys of Unit 19 are also being told of the changes coming to them in the nearby days. No longer do they wear similar navy jumpsuits. Now, they wear khaki pants, black dress shoes, white shirts and navy jackets. They do not, of course, wear the same underwear as you…" Madame pauses and the entire room erupts into giggles. Really, these girls can be so stupid. Not that the image of a boy in our underwear isn't rather entertaining… "But they are wearing clothing that suits them well. The change coming today? Your diet. You are all good, strong girls, but you need to put on a few extra pounds before you begin reproduction. Not so many pounds that you will be overweight, but enough to aid in reproduction. We want you to be as healthy as possible, so that you may produce the healthiest children of the entire Division!"

The girls around me all cheer, and Isabelle and I join in.

* * *

Sure enough, later that day in Physical Education, I'm called out with Maia's bunkmate, Aline.

"Clary, number 310019829, and Aline, number 310027876?"

I flash a nervous smile at Isabelle, who gives me a thumbs up, before getting up and joining Aline and the Physician. I have nothing to worry about, right?

* * *

So far, they're doing exactly what the textbook told me they'd be doing. I've been given the opaque, papery robe they promised, and I've undressed completely, and I've put the robe on. Now I'm just waiting for my Physician.

As soon as I think this, the door opens and a kind, middle aged man pokes his head in. "Clary?" he smiles.

I nod, suddenly nervous. "That's me," I chirp. I think my voice just climbed two octaves.

The Physician enters with a clipboard, and the door seals shut behind him with a loud suctioning noise. I shiver, and part of my nightmare from a few nights ago tickles at the back of my mind. I shake it off.

"Hello, there. I'll be your examiner today, Clary, and before we get started, I have a few questions to ask you. So, why don't you just hop up on the table there, and we'll start talking, okay?"

I nod and hop up onto the small examination table behind me, swinging my legs back and forth and listening to the sound of the papery robe crinkle as I move.

"All right." The Physician purses his lips. "My documents here say you've been having nightmares recently?"

I blink in surprise. How do they know that? I nod hesitantly, unsure of what to say.

He smiles. "Don't worry about it. I'm here to answer all your questions, okay? I bet you're wondering why it's so bad to fall in love, just like so many other girls are wondering the same thing."

I actually wasn't wondering that, but hey, whatever he wants.

"The simple answer is that love causes complications. If a woman loves her partner, what's to stop her from loving her child? If she loves the child, she may not want to hand it over to the government, to the Units, and she may want to take care of the child herself. That's a burden, Clary. If she has such a burden, the children she produces after the first may not be as healthy or productive as her first."

I nod in understanding.

"The other simple reason is that we can only have people reproducing until thirty five. People who are in love will try to reproduce after thirty five, and how can we separate a Couple in love, so that they may work and be productive in other areas? The simple answer is to not be in love. It is possible to produce the hormones necessary for sex without simultaneously producing the hormone that causes love. It's why we've invented medicines for struggling Couples. If they're afraid of having sex because they're afraid of forming attachments, we simply put certain hormones in their food, let them know we put the hormones in their food, and voila! Problem solved. Understand?"

I nod again. Of course. Of course he's right. Not that I was worried in the first place, but…whatever.

* * *

He leads me through a maze of sterile white hallways, so unlike the soft yellow ones of my Living Compartment, and so unlike the blue ones of my school, and the air smells sharp and septic. Finally, at the end of the maze, there's a small silver door titled _Laboratory 36_, and it is through that door that we enter into one of the most terrifying rooms I've ever seen in my life.

No wonder the textbook tells us not to be scared. This place is horrifying! There are large bay windows and a balcony circulating the entire room, and there are at least fifty people in lab coats watching me through them, writing furiously on their DocTabs. Loud, beeping machines line the walls, vials of blood sit in a see through…refrigerator looking thing…The examination table stands slightly off center of the room, still in view of every single window, and there are cameras everywhere. I stop walking, my heart slamming against my ribs.

"I can't believe I forgot!" the Physician exclaims. He turns to me. "Don't be afraid, Clary. You'll be fine. These people watching are all either Government officials here to make sure I'm doing my job right, or they're new trainees—people who are being trained to do this job."

I swallow. "What are the cameras for?"

The Physician peers at the cameras before laughing. "We're simply making a new documentary to show in the future classrooms, so that girls will know what the procedure looks like."

_What?! _My mind is screaming at me. I don't want thousands of girls in the future watch me…watch…watch—

"Oh, Clary…don't worry. They won't see the final part of the exam, and they won't see _you_. They'll see me, mostly. The less revealing parts of the exam and the tools…but they won't see your face, and they won't see your body. Not really."

This does little to comfort me, but…it's not like I can really argue. I nod and shrug out of my robe, walking self-consciously to the small rack on the side of the room and hanging my robe on top of it. I walk back to the center of the room, to the examination platform, highly aware of every eye and lens on me as I do so. I shiver in the center of the room, but I do not cross my arms over my body. I will not.

A nurse enters the room with a small tube of white cream, and she pours some into her hands. "This won't hurt," she says, smiling warmly at me. "But it will feel a bit odd to have most of your hair gone."

She rubs the cream all over my body…_all over _my body, and it's all I can do not to yelp in surprise. Her hands are cold and so is the cream. Once she's done, the Physician hands her a towel, and she wipes all the cream off with it. Except, it's not just the cream that comes off on the towel. An entire body's worth of hair comes off, too, and it makes me want to throw up. That's disgusting. I've never liked body hair. I always thought it was annoying and it got in the way of things and irritated my skin…but the sight of it all in one spot? Ew. The nurse grabs a hose from the one of the machines and rinses me off with lukewarm water, and I can't help but gasp at the feeling. It's like the water is suddenly filling my empty pores, and my skin is extra sensitive. It feels…good.

The nurse leaves and the Physician comes back from talking to one of the cameras, his hands encased in rubbery looking gloves. He smiles at me before turning to our audience. "Now it is time for the mammary exam," he announces.

He walks over to me. "Lift your arms up, please, Clary."

"I thought we weren't using identifying bits of information," I hiss.

He smiles tolerantly. "The microphones of the camera are disabled, sweetheart. Now, lift your arms."

I obey and suddenly his cold, clammy, rubbery hands are rubbing at my armpits. Not funny. That _tickles._ I'm _ticklish. _I squirm as a reflex, and he chuckles.

"We've got a ticklish one," he announces. The crowd behind the glass laughs as he moves his hands under my breasts.

He takes each one in his hands, squeezing them gently, and I'm feeling distinctly uncomfortable, almost ready to back away and tell him, okay, you've felt them enough, when he drops them and steps back.

"Well," he says kindly. "You have no sizable lumps. That's a good thing. Now we have to test other things."

He runs me through a series of tests. There are the medical ones, like height, weight, blood pressure. And then he has me do things like fall into the splits…the straddles…he has me jump up and down 100 times, run three laps of the room. Weird things like that, but I suppose it all has to do with matching me to the best partner possible.

"Good, Clary, good! Good. You're about halfway through, sweetheart, keep it up. Now we're going to run you through the ADM, okay? Just to make sure we aren't missing anything. We have to be thorough, you know."

I nod and follow him to a large, tube-like machine that's beeping and whirring everywhere. The cylindrical structure opens and lights up inside. I get in. One large, white flash, and it's over. That was oddly fast. I thought it would be longer, but before I know it, the Physician has opened the door again and is pulling me out, smiling. "Good girl."

I must be racing through these tests. Is that normal?

He leads me to the table, and my heart begins slamming again. This will be the worst part. No, not the orgasm part. The blood part.

I'm absolutely terrified of needles.

The Physician brings over a tall machine with a bag attached at the end of a long tube, at the end of which is a wickedly sharp needle. "This might sting a bit," he says, pinching and pulling at the inside of my elbow. "But it's necessary for the blood tests, okay?"

I nod slowly and his expression is sympathetic.

"You're scared of needles, aren't you?"

I nod very quickly.

He chuckles a little. "I can tell. Your eyes got very wide when you saw me with the needle and all the blood rushed from your face. Don't worry about it. See? It's already in your arm and you didn't even notice."

I glance down at my arm and see, to my surprise, that he's right. "How…how did you—"

He taps me on the nose almost affectionately and reaches to straighten out the tube. "Practice, dear. Practice."

Soon enough, the bag is filled with my blood and he's pulling the needle out and carting the contraption away. When he returns, he holds a small slice of cake with frosting on top and I get so excited I almost fall off the examination table. I'm not kidding.

I wolf it down in approximately ten seconds.

I should have gone slower because next, his rubber gloves are back on and he's telling me to lay down and position my wrists on my sides. I do so, my heart slamming once again, trying to escape.

The Physician straps my wrists to the table, tight enough so that I can't break out, but not too tight so as I'm uncomfortable or in pain. He lifts my legs and locks them into the stirrups, and then he presses a button on the side of the table and slowly, slowly, my legs are spread apart.

It's…effing…cold. I'm pretty sure my legs have never been spread this far without clothes on, and the air is hitting me mercilessly. I've never felt that before. He pulls out a long, beakish looking instrument…a speculum, I presume. He slips it inside me and I gasp, reflexively squirming away from it. It's cold, it's metal, it doesn't belong there.

I stare at the ceiling for a few minutes, but it doesn't help. At all. I'm relaxed, I think, I really am. I can't do this though, it's so uncomfortable and gross, and…done.

Suddenly the coldness and discomfort leave.

An instrument…the, er, vibrator…is strapped to my pelvis and I feel something sticky attach to the inside of me. He turns the vibrator on.

_What the hell?! _My mind is screaming and I try to wriggle away from it, but I can't. This feeling is so strange, and yet…well, I can't say I don't like it. The vibrator is pounding at a part of me I've been told to never explore, not until the time's right, and the feeling is foreign and almost too intense…too much to handle. I'm gasping in oxygen and within a matter of seconds, something is building, building, building, until I'm sure my body is going to burst open at the seams.

And then it does.

This feeling that been building inside of me explodes and I cry out, arching my back. My toes curl and my fists clench and I don't know what this is…I have no idea what's happening but I either want to die…or do it again.

What _was _that?

* * *

_**I was going to wait until Thursday to post this, but…I couldn't help it. I decided to post it today. I am currently working on the next chapter for Everything and Nothing. It has a few steamy moments ;) **_

_**If you guys can get me to 110 reviews…I will post the next chapter for this fanfiction before next Friday. I mean, you guys got me to almost 60 reviews for one chapter, and I have been FLOORED. I appreciate it SO much you guys have no idea. I woke up one morning to 50 reviews and I almost cried because of the support you guys have shown me through this. I admit, I didn't think you guys would like this so much. But the feedback I'm getting…I'm just…I don't even know what to say.**_

_**So, let's go through it again! What do you think? What are your predictions? What do you WANT to happen next? Was that too graphic, or do you want it to be more graphic? Are you guys ready to see Jace? He's coming up… ;)**_


	3. Chapter 3

_***glances at the first part of the chapter and sighs* I did tell you this was explicit…**_

_**Quiiiiiiiick Note: I'm sorry for any confusion. This ENTIRE story is of my own creation. I WROTE IT as an original story before adapting it for fanfiction. So…the characters I was comparing Clary and Jace to are ALSO characters of my own creation. Forbidden=All mine. TMI Characters=Cassie Clare's.**_

* * *

_**Chapter Song: Enchanted, Taylor Swift**_

* * *

**_Jace_**

I laugh uneasily, glancing at Alec out of the corner of my eye. He's staring again. He's staring at that other boy, Magnus, in a way he shouldn't be. I elbow him. "Alec," I hiss out of the corner of my mouth. "Alec, stop. Professor Herondale is going to catch you and you'll be whipped again."

Alec flushes immediately and breaks eye contact with the other dark haired boy. He pulls at the threads of his jacket nervously, and some of the yarn frays. He's upset, I know. He's my bunkmate, I can read him like one of the books in the Ancient Hall of Literature, the ones in the glass displays. Alec sighs and leans on his elbow, stabbing at a sausage link dejectedly. He hasn't touched his plate.

I look at my completely empty one, lean over, and steal Alec's plate. It's not exactly legal for me to be doing this, and if Professor caught me, he'd have me whipped for sure…but…I'm hungry, and there's no point in wasting food. Not in this society.

When Alec doesn't react to my stealing his plate, I wipe my mouth with my napkin and drop my fork on the plate. "All right," I say. "What's up?"

Alec shrugs.

"Does this have to do with your Testing yesterday?" I push.

Alec flushes. "I—No, of course not, I—"

I raise an eyebrow. "You're a terrible liar."

Alec groans and puts his face in his hands. "I don't want you…You can't…I don't want you to freak out."

I raise an eyebrow. "Me? Freak out? Really, Alec?"

Alec says nothing.

I narrow my eyes at him for a moment before standing up. "Hey, Magnus!" I call. _And the award for Asshole of the Year goes to…_

In a panic, Alec jams his elbow into my side, his vivid blue eyes wide with horror and anger (at me, of course), but Magnus is already here. The dark haired boy makes a motion to his bunkmate, Jordan, and they sit at our table, amidst the awed whispers of the boys in our Unit.

See, no one likes to sit at our table. Why? I don't like them to. After the first two years of me physically, mentally, and emotionally harming anyone who sat at our table, Professor Herondale gave up and had the Division simply add another table to the dining hall. No amount of correction had swayed me, and I have the scars on my back to prove it. My table was earned through hard work.

I reach over and steal a slice of Jordan's toast. He furrows his brow but doesn't say anything. I grin and take a bite. "So, Magnus. How was Testing yesterday?"

Magnus's unnaturally yellow-green eyes dart quickly to Alec, but he relaxes in his chair, tipping it back off the floor with ease. "…Interesting," he says simply. "As I'm sure Alexander has told you."

Alec flushes.

"No," I reply, glaring at Alec. "Alexander hasn't told me anything."

"There's nothing much to tell," he mumbles into his navy jacket.

"Oh, I beg to differ," Magnus says coolly, raising his eyebrows. He's tracing patterns in the air with his hands…almost…almost as if he was trying to draw something. In the air. With his fingers.

Magnus always was the odd one.

I smirk. "See, Alec? Magnus is willing to tell me what happened."

Magnus's eyes dart to me. "I wouldn't say that."

My smirk lessens slightly, but not by much. Why the hell won't anyone tell me anything? What was so traumatic about the stupid Tests? "I would, if I were you." I lean in over the table. I know I'm being cruel. But really…How the hell am I supposed to know what's going to happen if no one will tell me? "I see how you look at Alec, and I see how he looks at you. Do you know what happens to people like you? People who are attracted to those of the same sex? _Especially _when they're in the same Unit?"

Magnus barely spares me a glance, but to my relief, he starts talking. It'd look pretty bad if I threatened something I couldn't follow through with. The reality is I'd never turn Alec in. I couldn't. He's like my brother.

"It's simple, really. They do everything they tell you they're going to. To a tee."

"Well, yeah, but how does it _feel_?"

Magnus frowns at me, his eyes darting back over to Alec, who has all but buried himself in the floor. "I imagine it would feel rather different for you than it would for me…or for Alexander."

I lean back in my chair, thinking about the Tests with a sort of…clinical interest. "They do then," I say, nodding slowly. "They use the rubber model."

Magnus nods. "I had little interest in it. I shut my eyes until it was over."

"How long do they work you for?" Jordan asks. It's the first time I've ever heard him speak of his own volition, and I can't say it doesn't surprise me. He voices my own thoughts, anyway.

Magnus shrugs. "Until you finish."

* * *

"Is there any particular reason why my body hair needs to be removed? Aren't men _supposed _to have body hair?" I growl as the nurse smears the weird, cold, foul-smelling cream on my chest. It burns. They say it's painless, but apparently they lied.

Man hair is _not _supposed to come out.

The nurse glances up at me apologetically. She's acting very…strangely around me. It's one of the few times in my entire life that I've seen a female. All my professors are male, and so are my caretakers. The only time I've ever seen a woman…well…that was when Professor Herondale fell sick and the Unit 19 girls' headmistress, Madame Celine, had to come over and take care of us for a day, while her girls were sleeping.

That's how we found out we were on different schedules. The girls slept while we learned and ate and worked. We slept while they learned and ate and worked.

"Um…Some…Some girls don't…don't l-like body hair, s-sir." The nurse flushes red and wipes her hands on the towel. She hands me the towel and tells me to wipe the cream off before the Physician comes back.

Isn't she supposed to do it for me?

With a sigh, I wipe the cream off my chest, wrinkling my nose in disgust. When I'm done, I throw the towel away from me.

"The Physician will see you now."

* * *

I wish I could see what was happening.

I wish they hadn't blindfolded me.

I wish I wish I wish.

I wish I'd known how to do this to _myself _before, but, as they say here in Unit 19, let no child go wasted!

There are hands on me. Multiple pairs of hands, moving up and down. Sometimes they squeeze tightly and I can't help but moan, and sometimes they're so soft and gentle that I buck my hips into the air, trying to shove myself deeper into their hands. I don't know how many hands there are. There could be two. There could be twenty. All I'm aware of is this horrible, awful, intense, wonderful, beautiful sensation that is consuming me.

I'm panting now, my body aching with want of release. My hands have involuntarily curled into fists, and my hips are practically rolling on the metal table beneath me. I need…I need…something. Something, but…what? What do I need?

The hands leave suddenly and I moan with the loss. _No! _my mind screams. _Come back! You assholes! _

As suddenly as the hands leave, something is fitted over me…the rubber model, I'm guessing, but my brain is too…too cloudy right now. I can't think straight. It's wet inside and it's tight…and it feels amazing. They don't tell us how good this feels, and…they're moving it quickly up and down over me and this is so much better than the hands!

The need, for what, I don't know, is intensifying. This must be it, I realize. This must be what it's like to orgasm.

All at once, the sensations in my body peak, and I moan loudly as they envelop me. Something leaves my body and enters into what they've placed over me, but I'm too exhausted to care. I'm exhausted, and I want more. I want more of this…this Test, I suppose is what it is.

"He's perfect," the Physician breathes. "He's the perfect match for her. The Ultimate One will be so pleased."

_What?_

* * *

The room is silent for a while. It feels like hours. I'm still tied to the table. I've been cleaned and dressed by the nurses, but I'm still stuck here. After what is probably only minutes, the Physician comes back and releases me from the table.

"Jonathan Christopher, is it?"

I nod, flexing my wrists and rubbing at the spots where I'd tried to pull away from the Velcro.

The Physician smiles at me. Her chestnut colored hair has been swept up into a curly sort of ponytail, and if I weren't so worried about what, exactly, was currently happening, I'd have taken a moment to appreciate her beauty.

"Well, Jonathan. It looks like you excelled in all your Tests."

I frown. "Isn't that a good thing?"

"Yes, of course. Which is why you will be following me instead of returning to your dormitory to sleep with the other boys in your Unit."

* * *

**_Clary_**

"Clarissa Adele, number 310019829?"

I frown. My Tests were three days ago. Why are they calling me out of class again?

There can only be one possible reason.

I failed. Something terrible has happened, and my classmates know it. My Unit knows it. They're all staring at me with wide eyes as I walk to the front, my head down. I can feel their gazes burning into my skin. "That's me," I squeak quietly when I reach the Physician.

He smiles kindly at me. "Please follow me, Clarissa."

Once we're in the hall, I can't help but ask him questions. "Did I do something wrong?" I ask, unable to keep the worry from my voice. "Did I fail something?"

The Physician laughs. "On the contrary." His voice is kind and sort of raspy. He's a different Physician than the one who ran my tests, but I like him just as much as I liked the other one. "You did everything perfectly. You scored the highest marks possible."

I know better than to ask questions of my betters, of my elders, but…I'm just…too curious. "So…forgive me for asking, Sir, but…Where are we going?"

The Physician winked at me. "You'll see. Just follow me."

* * *

The Physician leads me into a large, open, well-lit chamber with light blue walls. There are paintings of our society on the walls, and at the end of the chamber is a large chair, almost like a—a throne in the tales of ancient times. In the chair sits a man. A very important looking man. A man with a tall, proud stature and white hair and dark eyes.

The Ultimate One.

With a gasp, I fall to my knees and bow to him, careful to keep my eyes on the floor. I have already looked at him too long. I could be…eliminated from the system, I think is what the textbooks say.

The Ultimate One chuckles, and I find that he sounds kind. He doesn't sound how I imagined him at all.

"Rise, Clarissa," he says, his tone fond.

I stand, careful to keep my eyes trained on the floor. Of course. Of course he knows my name, he's the Ultimate One. He knows and sees all.

"You may look up, Clarissa…or, is it Clary? Is that what they call you in your Unit?"

I nod wordlessly, but I carefully, slowly, look up at the Ultimate One. He's smiling at me, and his smile is not cold as I'd imagined. It was warm and kind…benevolent.

Exactly how we've been told.

"I rather like your name, Clary," he says. He shifts in his chair. "Come, Jonathan. I have someone I'd like you to meet."

I follow the Ultimate One's gaze to a painting in the far back of the room, where a boy I had not noticed before stands facing the wall. I gasp loudly. This is the first time I've ever seen a boy my age, and I can't say I'm prepared for it.

He's so much _taller_ than me.

Jonathan turns around, and I swallow another gasp. I can't help but stare. He's beautiful. He's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my entire life.

He's tall and he looks strong. He has golden blond hair and pale skin. He has the most odd golden eyes, and he has thin, wide lips that look like they were designed for the sole purpose of smirking. He looks like a trouble maker. He looks like an angel.

Jonathan begins to walk toward us, his eyes wide, trained on me. He's staring too. I can't imagine he's ever seen a girl his own age before. His beautiful eyes shut for a few moments, however, when he stops staring to yawn. I notice light circles under his eyes. He looks very tired, and I wonder why. Doesn't he get enough sleep? Why is he wearing sleepclothes? Shouldn't he be in class right now, like I?

Jonathan reaches me, and oh, he's so much taller than I'd originally thought. He towers over me. I'm like a little bug he could squash with his finger. We stare at each other for a very long time. Something tickles the back of my mind…he looks so…so familiar.

"Clary, this is Jonathan. You may call him Jace, as he prefers. Jace, this is Clary."

Neither of us looks at the Ultimate One and he chuckles quietly. "You are each other's partners."

Jace's gaze snaps to the Ultimate One. His eyes are slightly wider than they were a moment ago. "So soon?" he asks. His voice is beautiful too. It's deep and youthful. Authoritative, even. "I thought…I was under the impression that we were to wait until everyone had been Tested and Coupled."

The Physician, who hasn't left the room yet, shifts. I'd almost say he was uncomfortable, but…why would he be uncomfortable.

The Ultimate One's kind expression doesn't falter. "Ah, yes. You see, Jace, in each Unit there are those who display more potential than the others. More potential than everyone else in the Unit. These children are…well, they're kind of Idris's prized possessions. They symbolize hope for the future, and they are selected from each Unit before the official Coupling to show the others how everything is to proceed. Two weeks before the Coupling, they are selected and are given time away from the others, with each other, to become comfortable with the other's presence. Then, for the next two years, they are the Lead Couple. They must show the other Couples how to behave."

"And…we've been chosen as the Lead Couple?" I ask hesitantly.

Jace glances at me, some expression flickering across his face, but I can't read it, and it flits away too quickly for me to try and decipher.

The Ultimate One smiles proudly. "Yes. Yes, good job Clarissa. You and Jonathan have been chosen as this generation's Lead Couple."

* * *

"Stop doing that," Jace says irritably without turning from the window. He's been standing there, looking out over the mazes of Unit buildings in our Division, for the past ten minutes we've been in here.

I blink. "Stop doing what?"

"Staring at me."

I scowl and lean back in my chair, folding my arms across my chest. "Well, you're not exactly making it easy to get to know you."

He glances at me, amusement flashing across his face. "We have nineteen years to get to know each other, Clary, if you count the two years before we go into isolation. I think that's plenty of time."

"But we're supposed to set an example for everyone in our Unit. Don't you care about that?"

Jace runs his hand through his hair and sighs. He moves away from the window and sits in the chair across from me, kicking his feet up on the table, and crossing his hands behind his head. "So how did _your _final test go?"

I feel myself flush immediately. My final test? Does he really want to know that, or is he trying to make me uncomfortable? I press my lips together. "It went well, apparently. And yours?"

Jace grins, and I find a flaw in his perfection: there's a chip in one of his teeth and I absentmindedly wonder how he got it. Our Unit systems are perfectly safe and relatively hazard free. You'd have to be doing something really stupid to injure yourself like _that_.

"My Test was wonderful." He seems to contemplate his own words for a moment and I can't do anything but watch him and take a sip of my orange juice. Yes. I specially requested that they bring me some orange juice, and the Ultimate One, oddly, seemed all too happy to oblige. "Did you know orgasms could feel like that? I didn't. They didn't tell us that stuff."

I can't help but stare at him. Who is this boy? And how on earth did _I _get Coupled with him?

Jace's grin widens. "Did they tell _you _how it feels?"

I frown and scoot my chair back a smidge, because he's making me incredibly uncomfortable. Which, I realize belatedly, is probably what he's trying to do. "N-no," I stammer. My voice doesn't come out nearly as confident as I'd like it to, and he notices, his grin growing into a smirk. I swallow and force my voice out more confidently. "No, of course they didn't."

"I can't imagine why," Jace says, falling back into his chair and dipping his pinky finger in his water, as if to test if it was cool enough for him. "Why would they keep something like _that _away from us?"

I stare at him. "Why _wouldn't _they? Can you imagine? If they left us with that information, alone?"

Jace frowns. "We'd…use it?"

I shake my head in disbelief. "We're not supposed to. We're supposed to remain faithful to our partners, and you know that."

Jace cocks an eyebrow and takes a sip of his water. "Giving ourselves orgasms is being unfaithful?"

I'm sure my entire body is red now. I'm as red as a tomato, I'm blushing so hard. "It's not…not coming from our partner…We have to depend on each other, and put our trust in each other."

Jace stares at me for a moment, and I think I've offended him. But then, he does something even worse.

He bursts out laughing.

I scowl, my embarrassment turning into anger. "I don't see what's so funny," I growl, burying my nose in my orange juice glass.

"They really…Wow…You really…You really believe…Everything they say, don't you?" he gasps between fits.

"Of course I do!" I argue. "Don't you?"

Jace shakes his head, growing calm almost immediately. His ability to control his emotions kind of scares me, I have to say. "No. Of course I don't."

I stare at him incredulously. Does he not realize how much trouble he could get us into? This is ridiculous! To not believe in our government…our sovereign government. They take care of us.

He picks up on my incredulity almost immediately and sets his water back down on the table. "Clary," he says gently. I can almost believe that we're going to be a Couple. That we _are _a Couple. It's so odd. All my life has been building up to this point, and now that it's happened…it's happened so quickly, I can't really make sense of all of it.

"Clary," Jace repeats, watching me. "Our government is made up of people. People, just like you and me." His voice is soft, and there's a lilt to it. I want to believe him. But…the people in our government descend from those The Original Ultimate One picked himself. They're faultless. Perfect. Designed to lead.

"People make mistakes."

"Not our government," I shoot back. "They were ordained by the Original Ultimate One."

"The Original Ultimate One was human too," Jace says wryly. "It's why he died."

* * *

"What did they _do _to you?" Isabelle hisses over breakfast.

I stab at my eggs. I don't even like eggs. "You promise not to tell anyone?" I murmur out of the corner of my mouth.

Isabelle is silent for two full heartbeats before she answers. "I promise," she whispers back.

I sigh. "I was Coupled yesterday."

Isabelle nearly drops her fork in surprise. "You were _what_?!"

I look at her helplessly. "I know. It's awful. Apparently, in each Unit, in each generation, they have to have a Lead Couple who's a step ahead of everyone else. Everyone's supposed to watch the Lead Couple so they know what to do in these next two years before isolation, and…" I groan, covering my face with my hands. "I don't know what to do. It's awful."

"Awful? How can it be awful?" Isabelle's voice is rising in excitement, I can tell. She's thrilled with this news. I'll have all sorts of stories to tell her. She'll know what to expect. Not that she helped me out in that department last week… "Is _he _awful?" she presses.

I glance at her. "Yes? No? I don't know."

"Well, what's he like? He's a _boy._"

"I'm highly aware of that, and so is he." I sigh and bite into my sausage. "He's beautiful, Iz. He's…he's angelic. I've never seen anyone like him, but then…then he opens his mouth and all that beauty is ruined." I lean in close to her, bringing my voice down to a whisper. "He thinks the government is wrong. He thinks they're faulty, that they can make mistakes. He even spoke of the Original Ultimate One's death."

Isabelle's dark eyes are wide when I meet her gaze.

"He sounds _amazing_," she says, her face lighting up.

I frown in confusion. "What? How can you say that, he—"

"He's perfect for you!" Isabelle is excited, and she's practically bouncing up and down in her seat like a little girl. "Think about it, Clare. You have your doubts about the society. Come on, we all do. You more than anyone. You're just scared that he's nailed your own doubts and feelings on the head."

I stare at her. I seem to be doing that a lot lately. Staring.

She grins at me and flicks one of my red curls with her long fingers. "No wonder you're the Lead Couple."

* * *

_**Hiya! I'm only going to really ask for another 50 reviews…get me to 165? :) BUT. If we could get to 200…can you imagine? I would DIE. I would give you all anything you wanted! Seriously! Name your price! You guys are the best, really, I'm so floored by the amount of support y'all are giving me.**_

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_**Reader's Question of the Week: What's your favorite YA series or book (besides TMI or TID)?**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**THERE'S A BLOOD MOON OUTSIDE.**_

* * *

"Really," I say, sucking down yet another glass of orange juice. "You'd think our education would be more important than this."

Jace doesn't laugh, but I can see the corner of his mouth twitch. He wants to. He picks at a groove in the wood of the table we sit at with his perfect fingernails. Really, how are his fingernails so perfect? He's a _boy_. "This _is_ our education." He picks up the DocTab sitting on his lap and waves it in the air. "We're supposed to be playing 20 Questions, Clarissa. We're educating _ourselves_ about each _other_."

I scowl at him. While he muses over the list of ridiculous, insignificant questions we've been provided with, I stand and walk over to the east wall of the room, where a small, dark cubby hole has been carved into the plaster. I set my empty glass inside, and watch as the box like contraption lights up. A mere two seconds passes and suddenly my glass is being refilled with orange juice. Smirking to myself, I take my glass back out of the cubby hole and rejoin Jace at the table, where he's tapping his fingernails on the wood impatiently. I sit and take a delicate sip of my juice, keeping my eyes trained on him the entire time. "Yes, Master?"

He rolls his eyes. "What's your favorite color?"

"You," I say sarcastically, snorting into my drink.

He's silent.

I groan. "Fine. It's green."

"Figures," he mutters. "All girls pick the color that matches their eyes."

I scowl. "Fine, then, smarty pants. What's your favorite color?"

Jace smiles blandly, tapping something into the DocTab. "Black."

I narrow my eyes, stopping my glass just centimeters from my mouth. "Black isn't a color, you idiot. It's the absence of color, just like white is all the colors combined."

"See, the thing is," he says, leaning back in his chair and kicking his feet up on the table. "I don't actually care. Black is my favorite."

Now it's my turn to roll my eyes. Isabelle was right. No wonder we were Coupled. I glance down at my own DocTab. "Erm…what is your favorite…school subject?"

Jace smirks. "The Physicality and Technique of Reproduction."

I stare at him, highly aware of the way my skin is surely, slowly becoming beet red.

Jace leans forward, with his chin on his hand, his elbow propped up on the table, and taps his long fingers on his bottom lip. "These are hard hitting questions. I can totally see how these will help us…_procreate_."

I blink, not one hundred percent sure what to say. I see his point, unfortunately. I don't want to, but Isabelle was right yesterday when she said that I don't agree with our government a lot of the time. I understand everything Jace says, because they're very often things I have thought myself. I bite my lip. "They're starting us small. We just met yesterday…It's not like I can ask you what—"

"My favorite position is?" Jace rubs his nails on his jacket sleeve, making a great effort to preen. It's ridiculous. It's attractive. Before I can reply, before I can let him know how horrific a question that is even though I secretly adored it and it may or may not have turned me on a tiny bit (and one that doesn't make sense, really, we've never had sex before) his golden eyes snap up to mine. "You on top."

I swallow. Hard. Because I can't look away from him. I'm trapped. It sounds so…so cheesy, and I distinctly remember Isabelle and I snorting in the back of Literature Expansion because the girls in the stories were so filled with lust they were 'trapped in his gaze, melting into his eyes' and we just thought it was the stupidest stuff ever. It's horrible to think that those very same words are really the only words that can describe what I'm feeling right now. It's like…It's like zoning out, almost. You can't look away. But when you zone out, your vision is unfocussed, and now, my vision is sharp as a laser. I can see every detail in his golden eyes, every amber fleck, the way his pupils shift and dilate, the tiny, almost unnoticeable movements of his eye, the twitches of his eye muscles under his eyelids…that tiny freckle up on his left eyelid, almost covered by his lashes…

Jace clears his throat and tears his gaze away. "I think we should ask better questions." He swipes his hand over the surface of the DocTab, turning it off. He reaches across the table and plucks mine from my frozen hands, and just as I'm about to protest, he turns it off and stacks it on top of his DocTab. He grins. "Let's make up our own."

I eye him warily. "Like what?"

"Like…dirty things. Things that will, er…_aid _in our rate of reproduction." He looks incredibly pleased with himself.

How the hell am I supposed to ask these kinds of questions? I know everything about sex…and then again, I know nothing about it at all. I can't ask him what his favorites of anything are, because he hasn't experienced any of them. Plus…it's the really weird stuff that most of the girls in my class paled and gagged at that really interested me. If I ask him about that stuff, the stuff that really…_interests_ me, will he be horrified with me? I bite at the fingernail of my index finger for a moment before looking up at him. "Did any of that BDSM stuff intrigue you?"

Might as well get comfortable. He's stuck with me for quite awhile.

His eyes widen slightly. He wasn't expecting my question, he was expecting something more timid…more 'girly'. He tips his head back and bursts out laughing, and I can tell he's pleased. I can tell he's happy that I've asked something so…_kinky _right off the bat. He looks back at me and grins widely. "Of course it did. It was one of the most intriguing parts of that entire class." Jace leans forward, so our noses are almost touching. "Did it interest _you_?"

I swallow and nod.

After all, what's hotter than bondage?

Jace cracks his knuckles. "What do you think of using food in foreplay?"

I was wrong. Food in foreplay is _much _hotter than bondage. Because you get to eat at the same time.

Now, bondage _and _food…

I grin as widely as he. "Do you even have to ask? It's a non-negotiable."

Jace laughs again. "I was wrong about you, Clarissa Adele. Damn. You just did a complete 180."

I scowl and focus my attention back on my orange juice. "How so?"

"See, there you go, hiding in your glass of orange juice."

I don't respond.

"Did you know we've been given second helpings in the boys' unit recently?"

I sip my orange juice disinterestedly. If he wants to judge my character, let him. I don't actually care.

"We also have these weird cup things installed in our boxers."

Why does he think I care?

"We also learned that some girls are highly aroused when brought to the edge with a tongue before actual intercourse."

I look at him finally, my glass wandering away from my mouth, my eyes slightly wider. His expression immediately morphs.

"Ha!" He exclaims. "I was _right_! You, Clarissa, are highly interested in sex, and not just in the way a member of our society is obligated to be. Even if we didn't have to reproduce as part of our job, you'd still be incredibly interested in sex."

I scowl again. "So what? What does that have to do with me turning a 180?"

Jace's triumphant grin has turned into a smirk. "You're all shy whenever we talk about anything else, anything milder, but as soon as something kinky comes up in our conversation, you literally rocket out of your shell. It's quite ironic, you know. Most girls would retreat farther inside said shell."

I narrow my eyes. "And how would you know? I'm the only girl you've ever met."

"Not true." He takes a delicate, excruciatingly long sip of his water. He knows I'm burning with curiosity now, the bastard. Damn him. He licks his lips and looks me dead in the eye. "The nurse who attended me during my tests…she was definitely female, and she couldn't form a coherent sentence around me, much less look at me. You don't really look me in the eye either…unless, of course, we're talking about sex."

"Fine then," I say. "I'll stay out of this shell you've imagined up. It doesn't exist, but I'll be as forthcoming as you'd like me to be, dear Master."

Jace raises an eyebrow. "Watch your sarcasm, darling."

I narrow my eyes even further. "You have to stay out of your shell, too."

Jace laughs. "I don't _have _a shell."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

I smirk at him. "What would you do if I straddled you right now?"

He doesn't even miss a beat. He doesn't even blink. "Lay you on the table and coax a scream out of that pretty little freckled throat of yours."

Damn.

He really doesn't have a shell.

Jace smiles. It's not a smirk. It's not a mischievous, devilish grin. It's a real smile. "I have to admit," he says, stirring his water with his finger. "I like you, Clary. You're attractive. You're bold in all the ways that matter. You don't give me what I want, and I'm not sure why I like that. Normally, I hate that. I like being given my way. Maybe all this is just a clue as to how you're going to be in isolation, and maybe that's why I like it.

Consider yourself lucky that we can't take each other's clothes off until the month before isolation. If we could, yours would be on the floor in shreds at this very moment."

* * *

Isabelle's eyes look about ready to pop out of her head. "He _said _that?" she squeaks.

I nod, shushing her and glancing around. I don't know if there's anything in the rules that says the Lead Couple can't tell others about their…_adventures_ as a Couple…but I don't want anyone else hearing this stuff regardless. "Every word. He didn't even hesitate, Iz. He's a…handful."

She grins. "Have you ever considered breaking the rules and _letting _him lay you across that table?"

"Really, Iz? With the Ultimate One in the _next freaking room_?"

She shrugs and breaks a piece of bacon in half. "You'd have more fun than if you confined yourself to drinking orange juice and reading stupid questions off the DocTab all morning."

I shake my head. "It's against protocol, and frankly, I don't want to be re-Coupled. Jace is…interesting. He keeps me on my toes."

"He'll probably keep you on your knees in a couple of years, too," Isabelle snorts into her drink.

I ignore her.

"You should play a game," Isabelle says, finally, when she accepts that I'm not going to acknowledge her comment. "See how far you can go without actually breaking the rules, and whoever recovers their composure first wins."

I raise my eyebrows. "What are we supposed to win?"

Isabelle grins. "Dares?"

"What?" She is not making any sense.

"Like, if Jace recovers his composure first…aka if his erection goes away before you can look him in the eye…then he gets to dare you to do something, like show up to your meeting the next day without any underwear on."

I stare at her. "I'm not sure if I should warn the boy you're Coupled with, or congratulate him."

Her face is light. "Doesn't that sound like fun?"

It does. It sounds like an amazing idea, and there's no way I'm not going to tell Jace about it tomorrow morning. He'll love it. I lean back in my chair and pop a grape in my mouth. "No, Iz. It just sounds inappropriate."

She rolls her eyes. "BS, Clare. You loved that idea, you just don't want to admit it."

* * *

_Jace smiles at me and leans in. Kisses my forehead. Kisses my temples. _

_We both freeze when we hear it. The wail. The tiny, feeble little wail from our bedroom._

_Jace frowns, but his hand doesn't drop from where it's tangled in my hair. "What was that?" he asks._

_I move away from him, walking toward the bedroom, but my steps are sluggish. I'm walking through tar now, the floor of our house has literally turned to sticky tar. The wailing continues, and something is tugging tugging tugging at my heart. The wailing hurts my heart._

_There's a loud banging on our front door, and somehow, Jace can move through the tar with ease. I can't. I'm still feet away from our bedroom door, and he's now at the front door._

_Ice claws seize my heart. I whirl around to Jace. "NO!" I scream. "Jace, don't open the—"_

_He yanks the door open to reveal the White Guards, all eight of them bearing handcuffs. The nearest one quickly slams his gloved fist over Jace's head, effectively knocking him out. I scream, but my feet won't stop moving to our bedroom. I'm almost…there…_

"_You! Clarissa Adele and Jonathan Christopher! You are under the arrest of the Ultimate One for unlawfully holding an infant child in your home against its will and against the will of Idris! The penalty for such a crime is elimination—"_

"_No!" I cry, my hand on the doorknob. "We gave you our child as soon as it was born, I—I don't even know if it was a boy or a girl, I never even touched it!" I throw the bedroom door open to show them, to prove myself innocent…but I don't get the chance…_

_The wail. The wail was a baby's cry. There's a beautiful little baby girl with a tuft of thin blond hair, wrapped in a light purple blanket, tears running down her porcelain smooth cheeks. A baby. There is a baby in my house._

_My baby is in my house._

_I hear myself scream as the White Guards bring their fists down upon my head._

* * *

"J-Jonathan Christopher…ID number 310019288?"

I look up, confused. I already Tested. Why the hell are they calling me out of class?

I just got back from talking to Clary. Surely, something hasn't happened?

I stand up, straightening my back, and walk to the petite nurse from last week. Ah, yes. This is the same girl who assisted me in my Testing. The nervous one.

* * *

We enter the corridor, and I can't help glancing up and down the hall…to make sure we're alone. I've been wanting to talk to her…this nurse…since I met Clary. I reach out and touch the nurse's shoulder. She yelps and jumps. "Sorry for scaring you," I say, dropping my voice. "It's just…I've been wanting to talk to you."

Her brown eyes widen. "Y-you have?"

I nod. I let my fingers trail up her shoulder and I tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. "I was just wondering…you look pretty young to me. Why haven't you been Coupled?"

She flushes immediately, swallowing hard. I've noticed people do this when they are…aroused. "I-I have been Coupled. My Couple is a Doctor, though, so…our occupations require more dedication…s-so…we wait five extra years before going into isolation. W-we…have to train…"

I nod, trying to appear understanding. "And how does one practice?"

The nurse looks at me warily. "Practice…practice what?"

Our noses are almost touching now, and I can feel her warm breath fanning across my face. "How does one practice for their Couple? I don't want to be a complete imbecile the first time I kiss her, do I?"

The nurse swallows hard again and glances up and down the hallway. Her voice drops to a whisper. "Sometimes, when the authorities aren't looking…sometimes Couples practice on people who aren't their matches, just so it's less awkward the first time."

I smirk. "Good to know."

I push her up against the wall and she cries out in surprise. Her arms reflexively lock around my neck, her eyes wide. I grin at her. "Can I practice on you?"

She nods hesitantly.

"Good."

I crash my lips onto hers.

* * *

_**Sooooo…182 REVIEWS IN THREE CHAPTERS WHAT ARE YOU PEOPLE. **_

_**So the goal for this one is 230! You guys floor me. I can't even describe how much you guys help me. You make me want to write this stuff. I just…argh. You're all perfect human beings okay? **_

_**P.S. My favorite reviewers are the ones who are horny…WE ALL ARE SOMETIMES. These people just shout it out and it's amazing and I love it!**_

_**P.P.S. I have a bloggggg! Other than my fandom one. So, if you're interested at all…follow susannamdelapena!**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**AN: No, no, it's cool, just go 30 reviews over what I asked for. You DO realize you gave me 80 reviews right?! I mean, hey, I ain't complainin'. I'm SO EXCITED YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA. **_

_**Also, dear Guest: Um…no. I don't get off on reviews, that's not what I meant when I said the horny reviewers were my favorite. I meant that the horny ones are more bold about how they review and they let me know exactly what they're feeling. So. No. That's gross and weird.**_

_**Also, dear all readers: Jace is flawed. Just throwing that out there. Jaedon, by the way, (the real character) would NEVER do what Jace does. NEVER. Jaedon is kind of shy and nervous and puppy adorable.**_

* * *

_**Three Days Later**_

* * *

_**Jace**_

"You're so damn lucky I'm not a virgin," the nurse—Natalie—says, tying the cloth tie on her pants in a bow. She glances at me and smiles a little. "I suppose I'm the one who's lucky I'm not a virgin. No one's ever going to figure out that you're not a virgin anymore."

I cock an eyebrow and she blushes.

"Well," she amends, pulling her shirt over her hair. "Clary will probably figure it out."

_Shit. Clary._

I jump off the couch and hurriedly dress, muttering a string of curses under my breath. I completely forgot about our daily appointment, which was moved to the afternoon today, since Clary had to take a test in school.

Natalie laughs and starts combing her fingers through her hair, watching me practically trip over my slacks and rip my jacket in my panic. "You forgot about her, didn't you?"

I shoot her a grin. "You took over my mind completely."

"Shut up," she says, but she's blushing furiously. "You're so full of it."

I glance down at my pants and tie my belt. "Well…not anymore, I'm not."

Natalie swears and chucks my shoes at me. I catch them easily and she rolls her eyes. "You're so perverted."

"Hey," I say, pulling my socks and shoes on, eyeing her. "You're the one who seduced me into your bed."

"Me?" she practically shrieks. "_I _seduced _you_? You're the one who cornered me in the hallway a few days ago."

I laugh and finish tying my shoes, making my way to the door. "You brought me into this room yesterday. I would never have had sex with you in the middle of the hallway, with all the cameras."

She snorts, cracking her knuckles one at a time. "Yes you would have."

I pull the door open and turn to her, smirking. "Maybe you're right. Maybe you'll find out one day."

"Jace, wait."

I push the door back closed and face her fully. "Yes?"

Natalie looks nervous, and she's picking at her sleeve, not looking at me. "I—I don't know how long we can keep doing this. You…you know what you're doing now, I mean…After 9 times, you've kind of got the technique and skill you need." She looks up at me. "Maybe you should practice on Clary now, or we're going to get caught."

I roll my eyes and move to leave again. "Please," I say. "You think Clary would actually let me have sex with her?"

"Well…you are her Couple."

I step out in the hallway, waiting for her to follow. She does after a moment's hesitation, watching me warily. "She's wary of the government, sure, and maybe she doesn't really like the way things are run, but…she follows the rules. If I even tried to kiss her, she'd probably report me, and then where would we be?"

Natalie pauses at her lab door in the hallway and looks up at me through her eyelashes. "I want you to promise me you'll actually try. Try to get her to like you, Jace, I know you can do it. Because I don't want to do this any longer than I have to."

I grab her wrist and pull her back. "Don't you like it?"

She smiles and gently extricates her wrist from my fingers. "Of course I do, Jace. But the longer this goes on, the more you hurt Clary."

"I don't care about Clary."

"No," she agrees. "I know you don't, you complain about her often enough. But soon you'll be going into isolation with her, and you'll be stuck with her for 17 years. You might as well get used to her, and you might as well get used to pleasing her, instead of me."

* * *

I chew on my tongue as I ride the elevator to the top floor of our building, where Clary will be waiting for me. How can I tell her about this…double life I've been leading for the past couple of days?

And…not just, Clary…Natalie, too.

It's Natalie I don't give a rat's ass about, not Clary. I do care for Clary. I meant what I said when I told her I liked her. I do, a lot. The Ultimate One knew what he was doing when he Coupled us. Clary does things to me…to my mind, to my body. And I can't touch her. Not only are we not supposed to for at least two more days, but she won't let me.

So, I've been taking my frustration out on Natalie, instead.

* * *

_**Clary**_

"You're late."

He's half an hour late, and I've consumed at least ten cups of orange juice in that time, and now I really have to pee. I am _not _in a good mood when that asshole I'm stuck with for the next twenty years walks out of the elevator. At least he has the grace to look ashamed.

"Sorry," he mutters, patting his hair down. "I got distracted."

I take my feet off the table and glare at him. "You're just lucky the Ultimate One went back to Alicante and can't yell at you for being so late and disrespectful."

"I'm sorry," he says without looking at me, filling his glass with water. He makes his way back to the table. "It won't happen again, I promise."

I stand up from the table and begin to walk over to the bathroom. Jace's expression suddenly becomes alarmed.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

I glance at him. "I just drank ten glasses of orange juice while you were gone. I'm peeing."

"Can I watch?" he asks, smirking.

I stare at him in horror. "Ew. No."

* * *

When I exit the bathroom, Jace is blocking the doorway. I yelp in surprise and jump back, nearly tripping over my own feet and crashing to the ground. I don't. The sink behind me saves me from falling by offering the sharp corner as support for my back.

Ouch. There's going to be a bruise there, all right.

Jace's golden eyes widen and he starts forward. "Are you okay?"

I glare at him and hold my hand out to stop him from touching me. I wince and peel myself off the counter, pushing past him into the room. "Were you listening to me?"

He trails me back to the table. "I—no, I wasn't."

I lift my blouse and press my cold glass of orange juice to the throbbing spot on my back, holding my glare. "Then would you care to explain what you were doing outside of the bathroom, which is literally thirty feet away from this table?"

Jace walks over to the Dispenser and presses a few buttons on the touch screen above it. "I…I wanted to talk to you."

"That still doesn't explain why you couldn't just wait for me at the table."

Jace comes back to the table holding a lumpy brown thing in his hand. He pulls his chair over close to mine, reaching behind me to take the glass of orange juice out of my hand. I snatch my hand away as soon as he does that. He sighs and hands me the brown lumpy thing, which is freezing cold.

"What is this?" I ask.

"It's an ice pack."

I press the ice to my back, trying hard not to sigh with the relief from the heat it brings.

Jace runs his hand through his hair. "I thought you were mad at me."

"I am."

"That's why I was outside the bathroom. I didn't think you'd come out until our session was over."

I let myself relax. He's really close…it's hard not to reach out and touch him from here. I really want to, but…the Ultimate One said we weren't supposed to touch each other until Wednesday. I don't know why, and personally, I think it's a stupid rule. But…rules are rules, and whether I like it or not, it's my job to follow them.

I reach out and pry his fingers from each other, slipping my hand into his and gripping his fingers. He looks up at me, the surprise evident in his eyes. Something else is in his eyes, but…I can't read it. I've ever seen that sort of emotion before, and I don't know what it is. "I wasn't…mad, Jace. I'm irritated, yeah, but…if you were telling the truth, and I'm going to trust that you were…I can't blame you for just getting distracted. I mean, heck, I get distracted a lot. I can't get mad at you for that."

* * *

_**Jace**_

Her words are like spikes driving through my chest. _I trust you._

Her hand, however…her hand is enough to soothe the pain and unease in my chest.

She just broke a rule, and I could kiss her for it. I don't want to scare her off, though, not after she just…did that. She's probably beating herself up in her mind for that.

I return her grip, and I see her eyes widen a little bit. My heart swells. I have an effect on her, just like she has one on me. I flash her a small smile and turn her wrist over in my hand, tracing her veins with my fingertips. With Natalie, my goal is physical release.

With Clary…I don't know what my goal is. I like her, and I want her to like me, too.

"…How's your back?"

"F-fine," she stutters, staring at our hands. I think she's a little nervous and worried that we're going to get caught, but I've figured by now, that the authorities don't care. If we do get caught, nothing outside of a short reprimand will happen.

"Have you ever wondered about your parents?" I mutter.

She looks at me sharply. "Why would you ask that?"

I shake my head, concentrating on the smooth, pale skin of her wrist. "They've got to be around here somewhere, don't you think?"

She shrugs, biting her lip. She's driving me crazy. "If we were their first children, they could still be in isolation."

"And what about our brothers and sisters? Where are they? What if we were twins? Then what do they—"

"Jace," she interrupts quickly. "Stop asking all these questions. They're dangerous, and you know that. You have to be careful."

I stop tracing her wrist and look up at her. Her green eyes are cautious, guarded. "You can't tell me you've never asked yourself these questions."

I see a small flutter at the base of her throat—a nervous swallow. "I—I like the questions we were asking the other day," she whispers.

"These are the questions that matter, though, Clary."

She looks away from me, but she doesn't pull her wrist back. "I know." Her voice is still a whisper. "All I want is a happy life without much thought. I want to do my job with you for as long as is expected of me. I want to serve my community after that job is finished, as is expected of me. Then I'm going to die peacefully and I'm going to be buried outside, in the sunlight, as is expected of me."

I reach out and pull her face gently towards me. "Wouldn't you like to _see_ the sunlight, first?"

* * *

"You called, Professor?"

Professor Herondale looked up from his desk and motioned for me to take a seat. I do. If there's anyone here I'm afraid of, it's Professor Herondale. I don't know why, but he's always been harder on me than the other boys.

I suppose it's because he might have guessed I was going to be part of the Lead Couple.

"Yes, Jonathan. Wait just a moment, for the…other guest to arrive."

I swallow hard. Now I'm terrified. I'm sure he's found out, somehow, that I've been having sex with Natalie…but how would he know? It's not like I disappear from class. The boys in my Unit are given free time in the late mornings, which is when I sneak out of our compound and meet Natalie in the hidden storage room at the end of the hallway.

The door opens and Alec stumbles into the room, looking distinctly upset.

"Alec?" I ask incredulously. "What are _you _doing here?"

Alec doesn't say anything, but he glances at Professor Herondale, who is shutting his DocTab down.

The Professor looks up at me, his blue eyes piercing through. I want to shrink back, but I don't. "Jonathan," he says patronizingly. "Were you aware of Alexander's…condition?"

I look sideways at Alec, who is incredibly pale. "You have a condition?"

Alec doesn't say anything. He's chewing on the inside of his cheek, picking at his sleeves, like he's always done since we were little. He's really nervous. No, not nervous—he's scared.

I peer back at Professor Herondale. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about his homosexuality."

I feel all my blood drain into my feet. I grip the material of the couch. "I…Yes, I was aware."

Professor Herondale folds his hands on his desk and looks at me with narrowed eyes. "Why did you not tell me?"

I swallow. "I was trying to protect him," I confess. "I didn't want him to get hurt, and I still don't."

The Professor sighs and passes his hand over his face. "You both know it's wrong. You know it's unlawful, unnatural—"

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" I ask, interrupting him. I'm going to be whipped later, I know. Dammit. "You know…If you think it's wrong…Go ahead and believe that, I don't care, that's your right, but do you have to make people who believe differently than you miserable for it? You can believe what you want, but you don't have to make Alec or me believe that, too."

Professor Herondale's eyes narrow further. "It's unlawful, and if the real authorities, the White Guards, the Ultimate One—if they found out, they'd have Alec eliminated from the system. It's not whether I think it's morally right or not, Jonathan. If you would just shut your damn mouth for five seconds, you'd figure out that I haven't called the White Guards yet. You'd figure out that I asked you and Alec here faster. I don't _want _Alec to die any more than you do."

Alec picks at his sleeve. "What do I have to do?"

"There's nothing _to _do, Alexander. I called you in here to make sure you know how to protect yourself against persecution. You're going to have to do your best to reproduce with a girl for your seventeen years and then live your life. You're going to have to act as…heterosexual as you possibly can. I'm sure Jace can help you. He's as straight as they come."

Alec nods sullenly. "May I go?"

Professor Herondale nods, and I get up to join Alec.

"Not you, Jonathan. Sit."

Alec looks apologetically at me, shutting the door behind him. I scowl and sit back down on the couch. "What?" I ask shortly.

Professor Herondale stares at me for a few minutes before speaking. "You're too headstrong, Jonathan. You need to watch your step or you'll find yourself in a worse position than Alexander."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Thanks for the stellar advice," I say sarcastically. "While you're at it, why don't you bake me a cookie, sit me down for some caretaker-ward bonding time?"

"Watch the sarcasm, Jonathan." Professor Herondale's jaw is clenched. I'm getting to him.

I don't know why, but I love pushing his buttons. Anyone else, sure it's fun, but I don't take quite as much joy in it as I do with Professor Herondale. "Why? What's wrong with sarcasm?"

"It'll get you into trouble."

I roll my eyes and snort. "That's another thing. Where do you get off acting like you know me? Why do you act like you know every move I'm going to make, everything I'm going to do or say, before I say it? Is it just because you're my caretaker? Why don't you notice that about everyone else? Why the hell do you care so much—"

"Because you're my _son!_" Professor Herondale pales immediately and sits back in his chair, pressing his palm to his forehead.

"What?" I whisper, blinking. I feel like everything in my body has slowed to a stop. My blood. My heart. My organs, my brain. Everything. Has simply…frozen.

"My god," he whispers, staring at me with wide eyes. "What have I done?"

I swallow hard. "What do you _mean _I'm your _son_?"

Professor Herondale shakes his head. "I mean…you're my biological son. My partner…Celine—"

"Celine?" I ask incredulously. "As in _Madame Celine?_"

He nods slowly. "She's…your mother. See…due to complications…you were our only child, and as a sort of compensation, the Ultimate One allowed us to serve in the Unit you would be put in. He let us take care of you."

I stare at him.

"Or, rather, he let me raise you." Professor Herondale shakes his head and covers his face with his hands. "We were the Lead Couple, you know. You were born by C-section, and the Physicians in charge of the surgery…something happened and they cut Celine on the inside. She had too much scar tissue to ever give birth again, and so…as compensation, since it was the country's fault…the Ultimate One put me in this position and put Celine in the position she has."

"So, what the hell am I supposed to call you now? _Daddy_?"

Professor Herondale shakes his head. "No, no of course not. Call me what you always have, but…you should know…my name is Stephen. And you're a Herondale."

* * *

_Clary smiles at me, a little wrapped bundle in her arms. It's a blue bundle, squirming, crying. She comes up to me and hands me the bundle. "Maybe you can calm him down."_

_I take the child awkwardly. I've never seen a baby before. "Why would I be able to calm him down?"_

_She shrugs. "You're his father."_

"_But you're his mother."_

_She laughs gently, a beautiful, musical sound. "Sometimes, all little boys want is to be like their fathers."_

_I smile at her and look down at the baby in my arms—and stop. He looks nothing like me or Clary. He has pitch black hair. He opens his eyes—and they're electric blue…he looks like Alec._

"_Clary," I say, frowning. "Clary, did you have sex with Alec?"_

"_What?" She shakes her head. "The only Alec I know was eliminated two years ago."_

"_Eliminated?" I whisper._

_She nods slowly._

_There's a loud bang at the front of the house, and we run to the living room, where White Guards have forced their entry. "We've come to take the child," they say._

_I hold the baby closer to my chest and Clary wraps her hands nervously around my arm. "No," I say. "He's ours, he's—"_

"_He's Alexander Lightwood."_

"_That's not possible, Alec died two years—"_

_Clary is interrupted by a White Guard, who smacks her with the back of his hand. I shout in anger, and in my distraction, the Guard yanks the baby from my arms. Clary screams and begins crying—awful, brokenhearted crying, sobbing, begging them to bring her baby back to her. The White Guards are almost out the door, when Clary hurls a curse at them. _

_One turns, face emotionless, and he pulls a gun on her. I hurriedly drop to the floor, wrapping my arms around Clary and covering her mouth with my hand, but she doesn't get the hint, and she keeps cursing and screaming._

_The last thing I hear is the explosion of the gun._

* * *

_**Clary**_

I wake up, gasping, my chest heaving. I remember this dream. I remember this dream, and I feel a claw of ice gripping my heart.

What the hell was that?

Who is Alec Lightwood? Why did Jace ask me if I slept with him?

Why did my son have black hair and blue eyes?

* * *

_**Soooo…in case you didn't understand…Clary and Jace had the same nightmare.**_

_**SO YEAH. Now I'm going to ask you the same thing I asked my readers in my other fic. **_

_**Reader's Question of the Week: So, I'm going to start a vlog channel on YouTube (I know I've been saying that for awhile, but I'm really going to do it, because I have more support on tumblr) and I have two questions for you.**_

_**If I started a channel (book reviews, vlogs, etc), would you watch and/or subscribe?**_

_**What books should I add to my list of first reviews? Right now on the list are Clockwork Angel by Cassandra Clare and The Selection by Kiera Cass.**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**SORRY THIS IS LATE. I HAD WRITER'S BLOCK. AND AP TESTING IS COMING UP…AND YOU NEED TO READ THE NOTE AT THE BOTTOM IT'S RUL IMPORTANT. It's a really long chapter, beware.**_

_**P.S. Kolaa is New English for Koala. Eucalypytus is New English for eucalyptus. Behr is New English for Bear. I just figured that somewhere in history, some words and spellings would have gotten mixed up and messed up. And no, Clary and Jace have never seen a real animal. Neither have they ever seen the sun. Or been outside. Or anything.**_

* * *

_**Jace **_

I rub the back of my neck as I ride up the elevator, to my appointment with Clary. They've kept us apart for an entire two days, and frankly, I've been freaking out. My body is freaking out too. Somehow, my mind has connected thoughts of Clary to having sex with Natalie, so when Natalie and I are together, images of Clary flood my mind, and when Clary and I are together…well, you can guess what happens.

The past two days have been a constant struggle. I've let my body take over, I've let my hormones take over, and I'm beginning to regret even talking to Natalie.

But my body is relentless, and every time we pass in the hallway, I pull her into a dark corner, because I'm _so frustrated_. I can't imagine what this is doing to Natalie, and frankly, I don't even want to know. I don't care. I want Clary, and since I can't have her yet, I'm taking Natalie.

I run my hands through my hair, thinking of Clary, my khaki pants tightening every second I think. My father told our Unit, today, about what the girls wear so that we know what to expect tomorrow, which is the Coupling Ceremony. I swear, every male in there, except Alec, hunted for friction after breakfast. Class that morning was disgusting.

Nevertheless, this newfound knowledge sent my heart racing and my blood on fire. This elevator is way too slow.

All I want is to see her. I just want to see her again. She could be mute, deaf, blind, lame, or all four, I don't care. I just want to see her. There is something inside of me that pulls toward her. It's like there's a hole somewhere in my chest, a hole that I try filling with Natalie, but a hole that I can only fill with Clary.

Why don't I just take _Clary _up against a wall?

I can't do that. Clary's special…her first time has to be special. The past two days have taught me that. At first, meeting her was a nuisance. Then I began to look forward to it. I liked talking to her, and I still do, but right before our 'Break', as the Ultimate One calls it, I had actually begun to feel attracted to her. Sexually attracted to her, and it was during the break, during the time when I couldn't see her, couldn't touch her, couldn't watch her hide a smile even as I insulted her, that I realized how entrenched I was.

She could tell me to jump off a cliff, and I'd do it without hesitating.

I've got to get rid of Natalie. This can't keep happening, I—

The elevator doors finally open, and a small, fiery shape hurtles into me, knocking me to the ground, effectively sucking the wind out of my lungs. I gasp for air, my arms automatically going around the figure, trying to give myself room to get oxygen in, but Clary's arms don't loosen. I heave in a breath and look down at her.

Once, when I was eight, our Unit took a field trip to the Ancient Gallery of Old Earth, and we looked at photographs of these creatures called animals. One of the animals was called a 'Kolaa,' famous for wrapping its arms and legs around plants called eucalypytus trees and eating the leaves.

Clary, like the kolaa, has her arms and legs wrapped around my torso very tightly, as if she could fall off at any moment. Fortunately, she's not trying to eat my shirt, but has her face buried in my chest, her little shoulders heaving like she'd just run a treadathon.

* * *

_**Clary**_

Jace doesn't pry me off of him, like I half expected. Instead, he props himself up on one elbow and runs his fingers through my hair.

"What's wrong?" he asks, his voice a little bewildered.

I can't blame him. What a shock it must be, for your Couple to be adamant about the 'no touching' rule, and then two days later have her knock you to the ground and cling onto you like one of those old kolaa behrs in the Gallery.

He sits up, moving me so that he's cradling me in his lap, hands gentle, tender almost. It sets my heart fluttering.

Hormones.

"Clary, what's wrong?" he asks again, his brow furrowing with worry.

I bite my lip and look up at him. "I had a dream," I whisper. "A really bad one, and I-I remember this one."

Jace's golden eyes narrow. "Do you often have nightmares?"

I look away from him and nod, knotting my fingers in his shirt reflexively. "I started having them when I was thirteen, and I've always been told it's perfectly normal. They're always similar, but I can never remember what they are when I wake up, and—and I remember the one I had from last night."

Jace continues to run his fingers through my hair. "Well…what are they usually about?"

I look up at him again. "Who's Alec?"

Jace turns to ice. His hand freezes. His eyes widen and fix on me. His skin pales.

I begin to lean away reflexively, but his hand tightens on my wrist. I didn't even realize his hand was on my wrist to begin with, but know that I do, his fingers feel like five burning strips of iron on my skin.

"Where did you hear that name?" he asks, his voice hard.

I blink in surprise. "I-I don't know. It was in my dream last night…"

"What was your dream about, Clary?" he asks again, his voice even harder.

I can't find my voice. The sudden shift in Jace's demeanor and attitude scares me, and I don't know how he'll react to my dream. I mean, Jace was in my dream. How can I tell him that I had another man's baby in my dream? Is that even what really happened? Everything was so quick and fuzzy, and—

"Clary…" Jace's voice softens and his fingers find their way to my chin. He lifts my face up to his and looks at me intently. "Clary, I didn't mean to scare you, if that's what I did. I just—it's really important that you tell me what this dream about."

I chew on my tongue for a moment before looking away from him. My nails are probably tearing through the material of Jace's shirt, but I don't care. "I…well, you and I were in Isolation. We had a—a baby, I think, and I was trying to give him to you, but you were scared. And then I looked down at our baby, and it had blue eyes and black hair and I—I was confused, because I don't have blue eyes or black hair, and neither do you. But…but I knew, somehow that he was my s-son. Then you got all pale and you asked me if I had sex with Alec, and I told you no, that the only Alec I'd ever met had been eliminated. And then you turned green and you looked surprised that he was eliminated, and then…the White Guards broke into our house, and stole our baby, saying he was Alec Lightwood, and they knocked you and me out."

Jace is silent, his hands like vices around my arms. He's pale and his knuckles are white, and his grip is strong. Too strong.

"Jace," I whisper, struggling to get out of his grip.

He doesn't even look at me. It's like he's staring at the wall, and he won't loosen his hands. His hands are only getting tighter and tighter and I'm scared that my wrists will snap if he doesn't let go.

"Jace, you're _hurting me_," I say a little louder.

Nothing.

"_Jace_!" I scream.

He snaps to life and looks at me. "What?"

I gasp in pain. "_Let go_!"

He looks down at our hands in surprise, his turning white, mine turning purple. He curses under his breath and lets go, revealing the dark bruises his fingers have made. He and I both wince, and when he speaks again, his voice is hoarse.

"I'm sorry, Clary, I—" He swallows, taking my wrists again, gently this time, turning them over and inspecting them. "Your dream…it just…"

I frown. "What about it?"

He looks at me, his golden eyes full of pain and confusion. "I had the same one."

My blood turns to ice. I open my mouth, to respond, to say something, anything, but Jace just closes his eyes and shakes his head.

He looks down at my wrists and pulls them up to his eye level, frowning deeply and looking at them. With a shaky breath, he dips his head and brushes his lips across one of my bruises, making me jump in surprise.

The ancient proverb _'Kiss it better' _makes its way to my mind and I realize that must be what he's doing.

He must be kissing it better.

I sit there on his lap, shiver after shiver running up and down my spine as his lips make contact with my skin. He spends too much time on the inside of it, the sensitive part…and yet, somehow, the time he spends kissing my wrists is not enough. I can feel everything, like suddenly I'm hyperaware of him. I can feel his breath fan across my arms, the warmth of it cooling as it reaches my thighs. My skirt has ridden up a little bit, but he doesn't even seem to notice.

"I thought only lazy, unfocused, undutiful people kissed injuries," I say to him breathlessly in a desperate attempt to shatter the deafening silence around me.

He smirks against one of my bruises, and a low rumble in his chest tells me he's laughing a little. "That's what they tell you to keep you from falling in love."

At his mention of 'love', I jerk my wrists back, staring at him.

He matches my gaze evenly, calmly.

"I can't believe you," I hiss, glaring at him. "How can you mention…that word…so off-handedly?"

Jace laughs and raises his eyebrow. "What on Idris are they teaching you in the girls' Unit?"

I frown deeply. "One of the girls in my Unit made a joke about…you know what…and she got put in Detention for three days, no food or water. She almost died."

Jace's eyes widen. "Are you serious? Because she made a joke?"

I nod.

He furrows his brow. "That doesn't seem—"

I never find out what it doesn't seem like. Because, at that moment, the elevator doors open, and the Ultimate One and the White Guards enter our little conference room, and Jace and I leap up from the floor and salute.

The Ultimate One smiles benevolently—just like in the posters—and looks at each of us in turn. When he gets to me, though, he frowns a little. "Clarissa," he says. "What in Idris has happened to your wrists?"

I glance at my bruises, my face reddening. "Well, you see, Jace and I had the same—"

"It was my fault, Your Glory," Jace interrupts, shooting me a quelling look with his eyes. "We had this idea for a game…you know, just messing around, because today was a new experience for us…and I grabbed onto her wrists a little too hard. It was an accident, it won't happen again."

I glare at Jace. Why wouldn't he tell the Ultimate One, our Guide, our Salvation, about our dream?

The Ultimate One, however, only nods, seeming to accept this. He clasps his hands together and grins at us. "As you know, tomorrow is Coupling Day, and as the Lead Couple, it is your responsibility to preside over the day's events. I, of course, will be present, but you are running the show, along with Madame Celine and Professor Herondale."

At this, Jace stiffens, and I can't imagine why, but…Ah. He must not like Professor Herondale.

The Ultimate One continues, however. "You are to walk each boy and girl to the stage. When every boy and girl has been Coupled, you will demonstrate a kiss, and you will reassure your peers that it is simple and that they have nothing to fear. The Physicians walking through the crowd are there simply to reassure themselves of each Couple's chemistry. You will then make your speeches and announce the rules of the next two months. And you will finally lay out the day's schedule, which will be your responsibility until you enter into Isolation. Am I understood?"

I nod.

Jace, however, has something to say. "How are we to demonstrate how easy a kiss is, if…we've never kissed before…Sir?"

The Ultimate One smiles. "I was hoping you would ask that." He makes an unfamiliar gesture and all the White Guards leave the room, filing into the elevator, and disappearing behind the heavy metal doors. "Kiss, please."

I swallow hard, glancing at Jace out of the corner of my eye. He, too, is pale, and I know exactly what he's thinking.

Today was the first day we had any real physical contact with each other. And now we're expected to kiss? I can't help but protest a little. "S-sir…Your Glory…" I stammer. "I beg your pardon, but…I-I'm not sure I'm…exactly…ready. To kiss him."

Jace nods slightly.

The Ultimate One is still smiling. "That's quite all right. You'll both do fine, I'm sure of it. You two have a natural chemistry between you, and almost tangible one, which is partially why you were picked as the Lead Couple. It's just one kiss. Tomorrow it will be just one kiss…unless, of course, you'd like to practice more after the ceremonies." He winks. "Which no one would blame you for."

I blush furiously and turn to Jace. He smiles a little and wraps his arms around me, like he did a little while ago, when we were talking about our nightmare. My blood is ice and fire at the same time, my heart pounding in my chest, my brain spinning a million miles an hour. I'm dizzy, and I can't think straight, my breath is coming short, I'm not sure what's happening, and—

And then he kisses me. His lips aren't soft, like they were against my wrist. No. His lips are hard and they're rough, and I always thought I'd hate it if I was Coupled with a boy who attacked my mouth, but…the way he's kissing me makes me want more. I'd always read of kisses that made girls get dizzy and weak and fluttery, but Jace's kiss seems to do the exact opposite. I was dizzy and confused _before_ but now, everything is thrown into focus, and everything becomes perfectly clear and sharp.

I relax into his arms, a little groan escaping my throat. I can't find it in me to care that I just groaned like a perverted little animal thing, or whatever you call those creatures, in front of the Ultimate One. My heart is beating Jace, and my mind is sparking gold. I reach up and twine my fingers in his curly, golden hair, sighing again, into his mouth. The tip of his tongue gently coaxes my mouth open, and this feels even more wonderful than the beginning of this kiss. His arms have tightened around me, and he's pressing me into him, like he never wants to let me go.

It's awful when he does.

Jace looks immensely satisfied when he pulls away, but all I feel is emptiness.

The Ultimate One is grinning.

"Was that good enough for you?"

The Ultimate One tips his head back and laughs. "Oh, my dear Jace," he says. "That was for your enjoyment and learning. Although, I am immensely proud of you two. Immensely. You've displayed a chemistry rarely found in this country. I think you may even be the first Couple in nearly a century to break the reproduction record."

* * *

"Kaelie Mortenson," I read.

"And James Gowen," Jace finish.

We let go of each other's hand and step off the podium, hunting through the crowd for our peers. I wrap my arm around tall, blond Kaelie, and Jace claps his hand on tall, exotic-looking James' shoulder. We all walk up to the podium, where both girls join hands with both boys, and Jace says 'Congratulations.' James and Kaelie take their seats in the front of the room, holding hands and glancing nervously, but excitedly, at each other.

And so it goes, until every kid has been Coupled. There are even a few surprises.

My best friend, Isabelle, is Coupled with a funny-looking boy Jace teases relentlessly, named Simon. Isabelle is all curves, where this boy is all bones.

I even meet Alec Lightwood, who Jace explains is _his _best friend, and who Isabelle figures out is her mysterious, rarely spoken of twin brother.

In school, Isabelle and Alec were both told that they were an odd pair, one of the rare pairs of twins born in Idris, and that it was incredibly possible they might meet one day. When Isabelle and Alec met, they figured out instantly that they were the twins. Isabelle was overjoyed, and with a shriek, she had attacked Alec with a hug. Alec had simply stood there awkwardly, blushing furiously, bringing his arms up hesitantly and wrapping them softly around his sister.

Every Couple looks perfect, and I can't help but think, once again, that our society knows exactly what they are doing.

Jace grins at the crowd, leaning against the lectern comfortably, propping his elbows up on the wood. It's time for his speech, and I've been excited to hear what he has to say—he spins words so beautifully, I've noticed—but he doesn't have a DocTab with him.

I nearly smack myself in the forehead. Of course he doesn't have a DocTab. He doesn't need one.

"Congrats, ladies and gents," he says, smiling easily, openly, at our peers. The murmuring has hushed and half the girls are staring at Jace with stars in their eyes, making me and a lot of the boys glare. "You have all accomplished what you've been trained to do, all your lives." He chews his lip. "Well, almost. You've been officially Coupled!"

Everyone in the room claps enthusiastically, grinning at each other, blushing as they accidentally lock eyes with their Couple. The Ultimate One, sitting in the back of the lavishly decorated (really, I've never seen so many colors in one place, and I've never seen so much gold) room, in a tall, imperious-looking chair, looks like he wants to laugh.

I'll bet he had Jace practice his speech for him, like he did me, and it's probably hilarious and disrespectful.

I think the Ultimate One knows we could all use a little disrespect once in a while.

The applause dies down and Jace continues. "After mine and my dear Clarissa's speeches, you will take the next step. You will demonstrate a kiss for the Physicians circulating the room." He holds his hands up, stopping the chatter before it begins. "Don't worry. It's pretty easy." He shoots me a smirk. "Clary and I had _our _first kiss yesterday, and it was…well…shall we say…arousing?"

I feel all my blood collect in my cheeks as every eye in the room turns to stare at me. I avert my eyes from them, instead glaring at Jace.

He chuckles under his breath. "You guys are about to enter a time in your lives that is supposed to be filled with relative ease and happiness, and if the past couple of weeks I've experienced with Clary are anything like the next twenty years…It will be a happy twenty years indeed. I look forward to spending time with my Couple. The Physicians, working with our wonderful, most high Ultimate Glorious One, have paired Clary and I perfectly, and, as we are your example, you also have been paired perfectly. Here's to our Couples!" Jace punches his fist in the air, and many of the guys in the room mimic him, the girls looking slightly confused, but eager and excited nonetheless.

Jace smiles at all of them, pushing himself away from the podium. "And now, please clap for my beautiful Couple, Clary."

I stand up and walk shakily to the stage, as forty five pairs of hands clap around me. Jace winks at me as he passes me, and I shoulder him…rather violently, because, you know what? He shouldn't have talked about our kiss in front of everyone like that. It was a really intimate moment, and it meant a lot to me mentally and emotionally, and for him to write it off as something solely physical, and to tell everyone about it makes my blood boil.

I power up my DocTab, taking a shaky breath, leaning on the podium for support.

"Good morning, Unit 19," I say, trying to sound pleasant and confident at the same time. "Well, my Couple, Jace, has pretty much taken the words right out of my mouth, which, you know, just goes to show you how well we've been Coupled. Over the next two years, you'll find that your Couple is very similar to you, but also very different. You may fight. You may argue. But, in the end, your friendship is what matters most. Friendship kindles productivity. After all, it's a lot easier to have an intimate relationship with someone you trust, right? And, you know, that's really what these next two years are about. That's what our entire country is about: Trust. Without trust, we have nothing. So, with your Couple, learn trust. Build trust. Kindle trust. And you will thrive."

Jace looks oddly pale when I sit next to him. I furrow my brow and place my hand comfortingly (at least, I think I'm being comforting) on his arm, and he jumps. I frown. "Jace," I whisper, as the other kids in the room stand up and face each other, half of them pale, the other half bouncing up and down nervously. They're getting ready for their kiss, waiting for Jace and I to show them how to do it. But Jace doesn't look particularly motivated at the moment. "I'm not that mad at you. I-I was a little irritated…okay, I was pissed, but that doesn't mean you have to take it like—"

He shakes his head, biting his lip, hard. "It's not that, Clary, I—"

"And now," Madame Celine says. "Clary and Jace will demonstrate a kiss."

Madame Celine says Jace's name oddly, and when she speaks, Jace studies her very hard, like he's trying to memorize her face and her voice. I almost want to slap him. What is he thinking? She isn't his partner. The only person he should ever try to memorize is me.

With an exasperated sigh, I tug Jace off the bench and lead him up to the podium, keeping my hand clasped in his. When we pass Madame Celine, she and Jace watch each other very, very intently, and what happens next, I feel I'm not wholly responsible for.

I groan unhappily, grab the collar of Jace's shirt, and yank him around, pulling him down in the same motion. He makes a noise of surprise and trips, falling against me, which is exactly what I want, because now our faces are mere centimeters apart. He locks eyes with me, and something like fire rips through my chest, because I see a lot of pain in those eyes—pain that wasn't there before. I hesitate before addressing the wide-eyed crowd.

Right. We're performing for an audience.

"This," I say under my breath. "Is a kiss."

Jace is the one who finishes closing the gap, which in my over analytic mind, is incredibly symbolic, and speaks a million words. The tension in the room is almost tangible, and Jace thickens it even further by letting his hands wander around my back. He gets a little too low, and I move my hands from his neck. I wrap my hands around his fingers and draw his hands up to my waist. I cup his face with my hands, and this kiss is not like last time. I didn't think two people could have different kinds of kisses, but apparently they can. We do. This kiss is slow, and sweet. The…passion, I think it's called…from yesterday is there, but it's a bit muted. It's a different kind of passion, almost. It's like…it's like telling someone you—

Before I can finish that awful, dangerous thought, Jace pulls away, encasing my hands in his and leaning his forehead against mine for a brief moment before straightening up and turning to the crowd. He grins his signature grin, none of the earlier pain evident on his face at all, and lifts our hands into the air in triumph. The room erupts into applause.

* * *

**_Jace_**

"What's wrong?" she hisses again, gripping my hand tightly.

How can I tell her? How can I tell her that her speech drove a knife through my heart without telling her about Natalie? About why her speech about trust twisted my insides with guilt?

It's simple, really. I can't tell her. I have to end this…ridiculous, childishness with Natalie, however addictive sex is, and I can't ever tell Clary. Never. Ever ever ever.

There's a part of me, though, that I know will never rest until I tell her the truth.

"Oh!" I hear a familiar voice in front of me, and I look up, my heart twisting. Dreading. Wanting to run away.

"Oh, George, this is the boy I told you about," Natalie says, unusually peppy. "This is Jace."

Natalie is holding hands with a younger man, probably about 25, like Natalie, who is wearing a Doctor's uniform. He grins warmly and reaches out to shake my hand. I'm amazed that he doesn't notice my trembling, but Clary does. I know she does. She peers up at me, her eyes narrow.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Herondale," he says. "I hear your father runs your Unit."

Clary chokes next to me and everyone turns to her. My blood icy cold, I reach over and pat her gently on the back, trying to brush off the glare she shoots me. I stand back up and force a grin. "Yes…" I say hesitantly. How many people knew? "I myself only found out three days ago. It was a bit of a shock, but…I'm coping."

Clary's hard expression softens suddenly, and I nearly breathe an audible sigh of relief.

Unfortunately, I haven't left the hot water yet.

"How are you doing, Clary?" Natalie asks.

Clary eyes her warily, like she does, I've noticed, with everyone she doesn't know. "I'm good, thanks. How are you?"

Natalie shrugs, keeping her eyes trained on Clary. "I'm good. I think I might have a hormone imbalance, but nothing to be afraid of."

Clary cocks her head to the side a little, interested in what Natalie is saying, and I feel a knot tie in my stomach. Something nags in the back of my mind, something about hormones, but I stifle it before it can grow into an inferno.

"What sort of hormone imbalance?" Clary asks.

No, Natalie.

Don't say it.

Natalie leans in. "I'm late," she whispers to Clary. It's loud enough for all of us to hear.

Clary laughs and nods. "Yeah, that's happened to me a few times. I'm not a hundred percent regular. I vary from every 36 days to every 45 days."

Natalie glances at me pointedly, and in that glance, I know. I know what she's saying.

She thinks she might be pregnant.

* * *

_**Whoo! How about that CLIFFIE.**_

_**Okey dokey artichokies! Listen up! I have DOS NOTOS to give you, which is horrible Spanish for two notes. **_

_**MY YOUTUBE CHANNEL IS UP SO ALL Y'ALL WHO PROMISED TO SUBSCRIBE BETTER GO DO SO AND WATCH MY REVIEW ON CLOCKWORK ANGEL. Just look up Susanna De La Pena. I'm literally the only Susanna De La Pena on YouTube.**_

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	7. Chapter 7

_**HI.**_

_**AP LIT TEST KIDS SEE IF YOU CAN FIND THE QUOTE FROM THE SECOND FREE RESPONSE QUESTION.**_

_**P.S. IntraCom=Intra-communicative Device. Kinda like a cell-phone but smaller and it doesn't have a screen. It's completely voice activated.**_

* * *

**_Alicante_**

The room is dark, black as pitch, but when the screen lights up, he can't help but think of the sun. The man scratches at his chin, frowning and watching the movement of the Couple through the hallway. Project Alpha. Their hands have been linked since the day of the Coupling, and they've rarely left each other's sides.

"Has she figured it out yet, Valentine?"

Valentine shakes his head and lets his arm drop from his chin. He straightens his spine and glances at his right-hand-man, Luke Garroway. "No, she hasn't. The boy is beginning to have nightmares, though. Sooner or later, she'll find out."

"The connection in their minds…" Luke says, with dawning realization. "It's growing stronger, isn't it?"

Valentine nods silently, pursing his lips and swiping a hand across the screen, plunging he and his best friend into darkness again. "It is." He sighs and punches a number into the wall, watching as the panels open up, revealing the crisp, clean, perfect night stars and the world below the sky. It was perfect, really. They'd built Idris completely inside—99.9% of its residents would never see the sun, or the sky, or an animal. They'd had their reasons, long ago…Valentine knew. He'd seen the pictures of the nuclear desolation, the animals suffocating in the floods of oil, birds dropping like rocks out of the sky. He'd seen videos of children, younger than his own, crouched on the sidewalks, screaming and crying, and it had yanked at his heart.

It was remarkable how quickly the world recovered. The grass was green—untouched by human hands for centuries. The sky was clear. The rubble of the old society had crumbled down, hundreds of years of erosion and shifting tectonic plates opening the earth to swallow the stone and the plastic and the concrete and the steel, until all melted into the earth's core, and the plates shifted again. Everything was peaceful.

A small gasp sounds from the corner of the room, and Valentine and Luke turn in surprise to see a tall, thin, auburn-haired woman standing just over the threshold, her green eyes drinking in the stars before her.

Valentine smiles. "Jocelyn."

Jocelyn doesn't even glance at her husband. She walks slowly, almost reverently, up to the glass windows, pressing her long-fingered hands delicately to the glass, her breath creating fog that dissipates into the air within seconds. "Nineteen years," she whispers, leaning her head on Valentine's shoulder as he wraps his arm around hers. "Nineteen years, and I still haven't gotten tired of looking at it."

Valentine kisses the top of her head.

Jocelyn looks up at Valentine. "How is she?"

Valentine nods. "She's well. She's excelling at everything…exactly how we predicted."

"And the Herondales' boy?"

Valentine hesitates. "He's also well. He's…deviating a bit."

Jocelyn raises her eyebrows. "Deviating? How so?"

"He's…intimate with another girl."

Jocelyn frowns and turns back to the window, her body tense. "I didn't agree to this so she could have her heart broken, Valentine. I agreed to this so you could…help. Our people. So our people can love again. So our people can see the sun again without fearing that they'll tear the world apart."

Valentine kisses his wife's cheek. "She won't have her heart broken, Jocy, don't worry. I'm keeping a close eye on her."

Jocelyn pulls away. "I hope so," she mutters. She looks up at Valentine. "Goodnight, Valentine."

"Goodnight, Jocelyn."

Jocelyn nods at Luke politely before exiting the large room, the steel door clicking shut behind her.

Valentine rubs at his temples. "How is Project Delta, Luke?"

Luke scratches his cheek nervously. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. See…they kind of…well, last night, they proclaimed their 'undying love' for one another."

Valentine was silent for a moment. The softening effect Jocelyn had on him moments earlier disappears in an instant. "You know what to do," he says in a low voice. "End the experiment. Dump their bodies in the Void."

* * *

**_Clary_**

I stare at the thick, metal door that has clicked shut in front of me, my nose nearly pressed against it. One more step and it would've shut _on _me, crushing my bones to dust, flattening me to a pancake.

Just kidding. It has sensors.

Plus, Madame Celine would've frowned at me again and shoved me into the hallway. Again.

I sigh and turn away, switching my tiny, cotton duffle bag from my left hand to my right, and setting off down the corridor, my shoes clicking on the floor, the sound ricocheting off the walls. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine this would ever happen. They don't tell you this in any textbook _I've _ever read, or seen…or even heard of, and I can't help wondering if Jace was told of this beforehand.

I bite my lip, watching the steel floor pass under me as I walk. We—Jace and I-didn't leave things…well. On Sunday. After Natalie left, Jace seemed upset, and it killed me that he wouldn't tell me what it was. He was so distant all day, and it got to the point where I wanted to scream and shake him by the shoulders and ask him why the hell he suddenly shut down. Was it me? Was he afraid of my anger? I had been angry…More irritated then angry, but as the night wore on, all I wanted was for him to talk to me…really talk to me. I wanted him to say something other than pleasantries. Every time I tried to pull him away, to ask him what was wrong, he'd shake his head and mutter out of the corner of his mouth that we had to keep meeting people, even though I was sure we'd met every single damn person in the room ten times.

He kept finding excuses not to talk to me, and when we finally had some _encouraged _alone time, he said something about having a migraine and stalked off.

Since the night of the Coupling, something has fisted around my heart, something has tightened in my stomach, and the only thing I know can release the grip is Jace. I haven't seen him in almost a week, and it's killing me.

I'm scared, too. Am I supposed to be this attached to my Couple? All I can think about all day, every day is Jace, what Jace is doing, what he's thinking, how he's feeling, and it's slowly driving me insane.

I'm buried so deep in my thoughts, obsessing so much over Jace, that I nearly run into the door at the end of the maze of hallways. I glance down at my hand, where I've written _Alpha _in VanishInk across my palm. This is it.

I stand in front of the door's scanner, wait patiently as my eye is scanned, as my fingerprints are scanned, as my entire image is scanned.

"Name?" the door asks pleasantly.

"Clarissa Fray," I say.

"Welcome home, Clarissa Adele Fray," the voice says.

The door slides open, and I step in, my heart beating wildly, erratically, in my chest. Madame Celine said that Jace was escorted here approximately two hours ago, so he'd have time to familiarize himself with the place before I arrived.

I want to talk to him so badly.

It's a full apartment, and I'll be damned if I say it isn't the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. It's all white gold.

There are four rooms—a living room, a kitchen, a bedroom, and a bathroom: The only things a Couple needs to survive. This must be why they've put Jace and I in here alone two years prior to Isolation. They want us to be familiar with how Isolation feels, how supporting oneself feels, so we can inform our peers.

There are no windows, to my relief. If Jace and I ever decide to do something…publicly inappropriate, we don't have to worry about suddenly becoming exhibitionists. The carpet is thick and plush, bouncy almost. The only reason I even know it's carpet, is because the Ultimate One brought me inside his office last week to hear my rehearsed speech for the Coupling, and he told me what it was. It's white, and I have the sudden urge to drop my bag and drop my body onto it, and drop my mind into that blissful void of the unconscious for awhile.

I don't. I set my little bag on the glass table in the entryway, slip my shoes off, and pad silently around the apartment, my heels dangling off my fingers.

The ceilings are high, and the ventilation system looks decent. I wouldn't be surprised if the air in this room came directly from outside—without going through a filtration system. It feels…it feels more raw in here. Natural. It's making me kind of dizzy, truth be told. The walls are pale gold and cream, and an enormous white leather couch sits in front of the DocScreen, another glass table placed before it. The kitchen is stone—honey-colored stone. Again, the only reason I know that stone is stone is because the Ultimate One had a…a _fireplace _made of the stuff in his office. There is a sink, large counters, an island…there are cupboards filled with raw ingredients and tools I've no idea how to use. I've never been taught how to cook.

I've always been fed.

The bathroom is also paved with honey colored stone. There's an enormous shower with so many buttons—too many. I've no idea what any of them do. There's also a bathtub that seems to have jets built in them.

Once, I took a bath when I was very very sick. It also had jets, and I remember begging the Nurse to turn the lights in the infirmary off, letting myself sink beneath the water, risking getting water in my ears to block out all the sound. Pretending the heat of the water was what was lighting my skin on fire, instead of the infection raging in my calf.

I enter the bedroom quietly, so as not to wake Jace, who I assume is in there sleeping—but I stop short. He's not in here, either.

A fluttering feeling starts at the base of my stomach and races up into my throat—panic. Fear. What's happened to him? "Jace?" I call out, wandering again, from room to room. "Jace?!"

He's not here.

* * *

**_Jace_**

"What the hell is going on?" I hiss angrily, taking great care not to slam the door shut, lest someone hear us.

Natalie looks worried. She keeps knotting her hands in her lap and glancing past me, at the door, like she wants to escape. "I-I missed my period, Jace. I told you we should've stopped a long time ago, I—"

I run my hands through my hair, pacing the floor, my heart beating erratically. "What, so…What's going to happen? Let's say you are pregnant, which I'm hoping to the One you're not…What happens when the baby comes out looking like me, instead of your…Couple?"

Natalie shrugs sheepishly. "We ask to be relocated to another Division…together?"

I narrow my eyes and she looks away. "You know, I don't find that funny. Right now, I don't really find anything funny. Clary is probably at our room by now, the room we're supposed to sleep in together for the next two years. I'm going to go back eventually, and she's going to be pissed because I'm late and she'll feel like I abandoned her. _You _could possibly be pregnant with a child that isn't supposed to exist because you and I aren't supposed to have sex. My best friend is in danger of elimination for something he can't help. Something's happening to me that I can't…dammit." I run my hands through my hair again, my mind whirling. "Everything is going to hell in a handbasket, so please, refrain from making jokes, or I'll turn you into one."

Natalie bites her lip, staring at her hands. "I…I thought of a plan. Possibly. As a last resort, you know…"

"And what would that be?" Nothing. Nothing short of her not being pregnant could make this situation any damn better.

"We could be re-Coupled."

I freeze, staring at her with incredulity written all over my face, I'm sure. "You can't be serious…"

Natalie frowns. "Of course I'm serious, Jace! It's a perfect solution, I—"

"I don't _want _to be Isolated with you!" I almost regret the words as soon as they're out of my mouth. Almost. I don't blame Natalie for this—not a lot, at least. I'm the one who talked her into this whole situation. Part of me blames her, though, because the sex was consensual. I wouldn't have raped her. She agreed to it. This is partially her fault, and I'm furious. I'm furious with her, for agreeing to have sex with me. I'm furious with myself for being so stupid and giving in to my hormones. I'm furious with Clary for making me fall in l—for making me like her. For attracting me to her. I'm furious. I'm furious. I'm furious.

Natalie snorts. "What? You can't tell me the idea of having sex with me for twenty years is repulsive to you."

I don't say anything.

She sighs in exasperation. "You're making this way harder than it needs to be. Look, all you have to do is go to the Division Council and tell them you're more sexually attracted to me than you are to Clary, and—"

"That would be wonderful, except I don't remember ever telling you I wasn't sexually attracted to Clary," I snap.

Natalie bursts out laughing. "Please, Jace. Maybe in not so many words, but you yourself said she drove you insane, that you'd rather have sex with me—"

"I actually never said that." Natalie looks injured, like I'm personally driving a proverbial knife into her stomach. How did things get this bad, so suddenly? One minute we're having fun…the next…I practically want to tear her throat out just to keep her from talking. "I asked if I could practice on you to be good for Clary."

Natalie swallows hard and looks away from me. "So…"

I don't say anything.

"You used me."

The lack of noise, of movement…it's deafening me.

The only thing that shatters the silence is the sudden tone of her IntraCom. She swallows again and flicks it on. "What?" she snaps hoarsely.

There's a low chuckle from the other end of the line. "Hello to you, too, Nat."

Natalie's eyes get very wide suddenly, and she goes pale. "I'm busy, George. C-can I talk to you la-"

"I know, so am I," George says wryly. "I just wanted to let you know that your tampons arrived at the room earlier today, and I wanted to remind you that you should probably throw the sheets in the laundry chute, because no offense, but I really don't want to sleep in a bloodstained bed. Have a good day."

I glare at Natalie, whose cheeks are flaming red. "Congratulations," I say sarcastically. "Mother Nature just saved a child from being having a lying, desperate bitch as a mother."

"Jace, I—I'm sorry, I didn't want you to—"

I raise a brow. "To leave you?"

Natalie splutters. "I—No, of course not, I—I couldn't—"

I shake my head and turn to the door. "We need to talk about this. We need to talk. A lot." I glance back at her. "I'm going back to Clary. I need to…sort things out with her."

Before I make it to the door, however, I hear a sickening, crunching noise, and the world goes black.

* * *

**_Clary_**

Maybe if I take a shower.

Maybe if I take a shower, by the time I come out, he'll be back. He'll smile at me. He'll open his arms and he'll say sorry and he'll give me the lamest excuse for being late ever, but I won't care, because it's been two hours and I've done nothing but pace the apartment and chew my nails until my fingertips bled and worry myself sick.

Sick.

I sprint into the bathroom and drop on my knees in front of the toilet, my eyes watering, my throat contracting. This is the third time. The third time, and now I don't have anything in my stomach to throw up, and I don't know why this is happening to me. Images are rushing into my mind, awful, nightmarish visions, and I'm dizzy, and I can't focus, and I feel like the world is spinning a million miles an hour.

I swallow hard and lean back on the cool stone tiles, letting my head rest on the wall. I wipe the sweat from my eyes and the spit from the corner of my mouth.

A shower.

I grab the sturdy looking towel rack and heave myself off the floor, knocking all four fluffy, white towels to the ground as I do so. I stumble to the shower and find the button labeled 'Water,' and press it. I turn the small dial next to it, and soon, the bathroom is filling with warm, swirling steam. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to ignore the spinning sensation flooding my body, and I strip down to my nakedness.

With my clothes strewn all over the floor, I step into the shower, sighing as the warm water pounds against my skin. The steam may fog the mirror, but it clears my mind.

Jace's absence.

His absence…has this physical, somatoform disease-ish effect on me…Why?

I slide down the wall of the shower, squeezing my eyes shut, searching my brain for answers. Something in my mind is being triggered by Jace's abnormal absence, and it's sending my body into a panic.

But what?

* * *

_They have dragged me to the edge and are now attaching me to a large, claw-looking contraption. The claw tightens around my body and picks me up, holding my thrashing, squirming body over the giant hole. I can't see the bottom. I feel only terror, only a horrific, cold fear streaming through my veins._

_I look up at the boy, whose golden eyes are staring at me now, wide and desperate. His mouth is forming a word over and over again—my name, I think. I stop fighting the claw. "Jace!" I manage to scream._

_And then I'm plunging into the darkness._

* * *

_Jace smiles at me and leans in. Kisses my forehead. Kisses my temples._

_We both freeze when we hear it. The wail. The tiny, feeble little wail from our bedroom._

_Jace frowns, but his hand doesn't drop from where it's tangled in my hair. "What was that?" he asks._

_I move away from him, walking toward the bedroom, but my steps are sluggish. I'm walking through tar now, the floor of our house has literally turned to sticky tar. The wailing continues, and something is tugging tugging tugging at my heart. The wailing hurts my heart._

_There's a loud banging on our front door, and somehow, Jace can move through the tar with ease. I can't. I'm still feet away from our bedroom door, and he's now at the front door._

_Ice claws seize my heart. I whirl around to Jace. "NO!" I scream. "Jace, don't open the—"_

* * *

_I smile at him, a little wrapped bundle in my arms. It's a blue bundle, squirming, crying. I go up to him and hand him the bundle. "Maybe you can calm him down."_

_He takes the child awkwardly. He's never seen a baby before. "Why would I be able to calm him down?"_

_I shrug. "You're his father."_

"_But you're his mother."_

_I giggle. "Sometimes, all little boys want is to be like their fathers."_

* * *

**_Jace_**

The first thing I'm aware of when I come to is the loud crack that resounds in the room.

The second thing I'm aware of is the sudden smarting pain in my left cheek.

I groan, sitting up and glancing at Natalie, whose chest is heaving. "What the hell?" I say hoarsely. Pain lances through the back of my head, and black stars dance in front of my eyes. "What the hell was that for?"

Natalie is fuming. "I don't give a shit if you want to end this. You might think I have…feelings…for you…but I don't, and don't go around assuming that everyone is in love with you because they're not, and you…you just…you're so full of yourself. Just because I bled last night doesn't mean I'm not pregnant. I took a test, Jace, I'm—"

I glare at her, holding my cheek. I can't go back to Clary like this, she'll have a conniption fit. "But you are not. It was a stunt so you could get more attention from me, so I wouldn't break things off with you." I'm tired. I want to lay down. I feel emotionally, mentally, and physically exhausted. I want to blame it on this encounter with Natalie, but…I can't…something sapped everything out of me when I was unconscious.

I need Clary. I need to wrap my arms around her and I need to draw on her strength and I need to kiss her neck…I need to hold her.

"What are you talking about?" Natalie shrieks. "I—"

"Admit it, Natalie," I say tiredly. "You have feelings for me. Feelings you shouldn't have. Feelings that aren't returned. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have cornered you that day, but if this continues, my relationship with Clary will be ruined—"

"I thought you didn't give a shit about her."

"That was then."

Natalie laughs, a note of hysteria and pain creeping into her voice. "What? Are you going to say you love her next?"

My heart skips a beat. "Of course not," I say apathetically. I want to snap. I really do, but…something inside of me is sluggish and I just…I can't. "But this…" I gesture between her and myself. "This is over. So I suggest you take those skills you used to try and please me, brush up on them a bit, and try to please your Couple like that. Maybe you'll even grow to like him."

* * *

_**Alicante**_

"Alpha Interference off trajectory, Sir."

Valentine looks at Luke and raises an eyebrow, his eyes bloodshot from watching his daughter on the screen for so long. "Basic, please?"

"Natalie and Jace are no longer intimate."

Valentine nods, swiping his hand over the screen, watching as it switches from his daughter to his son. "Terminate Interference."

* * *

_**Jace**_

"Welcome home, Jonathan Christopher Herondale."

I'm too tired to even snort at the ridiculous greeting the door gives me as I step inside the apartment. "Clary?" I call out quietly. If she's asleep, I don't want to wake her, but… "Clary?" I call again, wandering into the kitchen. She isn't in here.

Maybe she's ignoring me.

The One knows…I certainly deserve it.

She isn't in the bedroom either, but I hear the shower running, and my heart swells with relief. She probably just didn't hear me over the water.

I walk into the bathroom, flipping the switch that turns the fan on, to blow away the steam. I lean against the wall, careful not to look at her. I doubt she's in a good enough mood for…that…"Clary…Clary, I'm sorry I'm late. Again. It won't happen again, I promise, I…I got rid of the distraction, and that's what I want to talk to you about. I need to talk to you…"

No response.

"…Can you give me a yes? A no? A maybe so?"

Still no response.

A feeling of panic rising in my chest, I step forward, wiping the steam off the glass wall of the shower. "Clary?" I swallow hard.

She's slumped against the wall, unconscious, naked, water running over her. Her face is ashen, and her body is bent at an awkward angle. With a cry of alarm, I rush into the shower.

* * *

**_Clary_**

_Clary…Clary, can you hear me?_

The world is dark, but a muffled voice pushes through. A small groan escapes my lips, and the muffled voice rises sharply. I lean my head back, the vertebra in my neck popping one by one, and I slowly peel my eyes open. I feel as if my eyes have been stitched shut and I'm ripping the threads apart as I blink rapidly, trying to adjust to the dimly lit room I awake to.

Gold. It's the first thing I see.

Concerned, worried, panicked golden eyes.

I'm suddenly aware of strong, warm arms around me, holding me tightly, pressing me to a strong, warm…_wet_ chest.

"Jace…" I whisper hoarsely.

_The last thing I hear is the explosion of a firing gun._

I burst into tears, and Jace cradles me, murmuring something about how I scared him half to death, about how he'll never leave me again. Somewhere in the back of my befuddled, confused mind, I remember him not being in the apartment when I arrived, and I remember my feeling of fear and panic, and I remember emptying my stomach into the toilet multiple times…but I don't care. All I care about is that Jace is here, now, and that he's holding me.

"You're _alive_," I say, my voice cracking pathetically.

Jace frowns and stops rocking back and forth. He pushes a lock of hair out of my eyes and lets his hand rest on my cheek. "Of course I'm alive, Clary, I…You scared me."

"You scared me, too. When you weren't h-here…my body…it freaked out. I was dizzy, and I threw up, and I couldn't see…And so I took a shower, to feel better and…and it all came rushing back." I look up at him, my heart pounding in my throat, tears beating at the backs of my eyes. "Jace…" My voice is hoarse, cracking every other word, and I'm trying desperately to speak around the lump in my throat. "Jace, _you're _the one who's been in my nightmares…all these years…I've been dreaming about _you_. A-about being separated from you…about our ch-children being executed…everything awful I've dreamt in the past three years…It's c-connected to you, and I don't know why, and n-now, with our relationship, I—"

Jace cuts me off by dipping his head down to press his lips gently to mine.

I shiver, his kiss racing down my spine and igniting my stomach. "I'm scared, Jace," I whisper.

He shakes his head and kisses me again, running one of his hands through my soaking wet hair. "They're just dreams, Clary," he says soothingly. "Nightmares. None of it's real. Your mind made it up. You're okay. I'm okay. We're all okay."

I nod slowly, looking away from him, letting my head rest in the pocket between his chest and his shoulder. "Jace," I whisper.

"What?" he whispers back.

"You wrapped me in a towel."

He doesn't say anything, so I look up at him.

He sighs. "I didn't want you to think I…took advantage of your situation or anything. I didn't want to get you dressed, because I was terrified, but…I couldn't just…let you wake up thinking I'd stared at you naked for the One knows how long."

I frown, poking at his chest. "But you're in your clothes and you're soaking wet."

He looks down at himself, in apparent surprise. "I am? Oh…I am." He lifts me gently and sets me on the mattress, positioning me so I'm propped up against the pillows. "Hold on, I'll be right back."

When he returns, he's wearing flannel pants and a thin, black cotton shirt, and he's holding what looks to be a smaller variation of the same outfit in his hands. He looks apprehensively at me. "I didn't think you wanted to wear your underwear to bed…but there wasn't any other kind of underwear, so I just brought you shorts and a shirt."

I nod thankfully—and wince. Stars dance in front of my eyes and my hand involuntarily flies up to my head. "Ow," I croak.

Jace is next to me in an instant, and I almost push him away. His concern is…slightly overbearing. "Let me dress you," he says gently.

My hand still pressed to my head, I glare at him. "Pervert."

He chuckles and reaches for my hand. "No, really. Let me help you. You fell. You might have a concussion. You should be doing as little work as possible, at least until we can reach a Physician."

I allow him to pull me slowly into a sitting position. "I don't have a concussion," I mumble.

"How do you know?" Jace challenges softly, laying the shirt and the shorts out next to me. "Have you ever had one?"

While Jace is busy smoothing out the creases in the clothing material—really, who _does _that?—I pull my towel of and toss it in the corner of the room. "No," I mumble.

Jace looks at me to retort, and stops, his mouth hanging open. If I'm not mistaken, his cheeks color a tiny little bit, which makes me want to smirk at him. I don't. I just look away, embarrassed.

"Hey, hey," he says, his voice slightly uneven. Suddenly, his fingers are on my chin, and he's pulling my face to meet his. "You don't have to be…ashamed of yourself. Especially not in front of me."

I look down again. "I know."

"You're beautiful."

I look at him sharply, to see if he's joking, to search those golden eyes for any trace of amusement or sarcasm…but I find none. I don't know how to respond to him. I just…nod.

With a small smile, he presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth and instructs me to lift my arms. I do so, and he slides the warm cotton shirt over my arms and my head, and he even pulls my hair out from under my shirt collar. Then he lays me down on the bed like a toddler, and he slides the shorts over my feet, up my legs, and he ties the small ribbon at the top of the flannel around my waist.

I could be wrong, but I think his hands are shaking. I know he doesn't see the effect he's having on me. I know he can't see the way heat is pooling in my core, can't see the way I'm almost throbbing with one simple, accidental brush of his calloused knuckles against the insides of my upper thighs. I can see him, however. The flannel pants do little to hide _his _desire. If I weren't so focused on the feeling of Jace dressing me, I think I'd be a little more smug at the sight of his arousal.

With a small smile, he pulls me back up into his arms, pulls the blankets of the bed back, and tucks me into them. Without another word, he crawls in behind me, curls around me protectively, draws the blankets up to his waist, and murmurs a short 'Goodnight, Clary' into my neck.

I'm asleep within seconds.

* * *

_**Not only did you get a chapter…but you got a ten page chapter. CONGRATS ON BEING THE BEST PEOPLE EVER. Really, we haven't gotten to the tenth chapter, and I have almost 400 reviews. **_

_**Soooooo. I put up a new YouTube video. It's my City of Heavenly Fire Crackpot Theories AND I LOVE HOW STUPID I LOOK SO GO WATCH ME MAKE A FOOL OF MYSELF. **_

_**There may or may not be a new chapter of Everything and Nothing up tonight…I'm kind of on a writing craze. **_

_**Reader's Question: Muffins or Donuts?**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**AN: DISCLAIMER: I have never made out with a guy. I've never held hands with a guy. I've never felt an erection. I'm completely guessing on this, based off of 50 Shades of Grey (WHICH I LOVE AND AM NOT ASHAMED OF LOVING) and fanfiction. And Literotica *coughs nervously*. Please forgive me if any of this is not correct, dear married, non-virgin people.**_

* * *

The world is black, and the night is all I know. Have I died? Is this what death is like?

I'm suddenly aware of a thousand other things, and I know that, no, I haven't died. I feel the comfortable flannel against my skin, and I feel the thick blankets weigh heavily atop my body. I'm aware of an arm wrapped around my waist, and a body pressed into my back. Someone's breath tickles my neck, displacing a few strands of my hair before they settle back down as he inhales.

Jace.

We live together, now.

Jace groans into my neck, moving his lips in his sleep, as many people do, but his lips are brushing against my skin and it's making every single nerve in my body light on fire. _Not fair_, I groan internally. I'm stuck. I can't turn around and make him stop, because he doesn't know he's doing it. I can't turn around and kiss him, because he doesn't know he's doing it.

The only thing I can do is get up as quietly and gently as I can and go somewhere else—maybe the couch…or maybe I'll attempt to cook something…edible.

Taking a deep breath, I wrap my fingers carefully around Jace's wrist and try to slip underneath his arm. His grip tightens unconsciously, and he pulls me closer against him, pressing his hips into my back and burying his face in my neck once again, unconsciously sending a shiver racing down my spine. I stiffen. I can feel his member, and I'm incredibly uncomfortable, and I feel so awkward.

Wincing, I turn around in his arms and poke his shoulder gently. What's he going to be like when he wakes up? Is he like me? Does he get really angry and grumpy if he's woken up? Or is he just sleepy and confused? Or is he like Isabelle? Bright eyed and all smiles?

"Clary?" Two golden slits peer at me, semi-unfocused. His voice is groggy and sleepy and heat pools in my stomach. "Are you okay?"

I stop trying to wriggle out of his grip, and I smile a little bit. "Yes."

His eyes open a little bit wider, and he's more alert, searching my face. "Really? You're okay?"

I nod. "Yes, Jace. I'm here, I'm okay, and so are you."

Seemingly satisfied with my answer, Jace drops his head back down, but instead of resting it on my shoulder, he settles onto my chest, both of his arms snaking around my waist. "I had the weirdest dream last night…" he murmurs, turning his head so his cheek and the side of his nose press into me.

It's immensely comfortable, this position we're in. Who knew? I always thought it would be awkward for a guy to rest his head on my breast, but…something about it makes me feel secure. It makes me feel safe, and it makes me feel needed, like Jace needs me to comfort him, and, dare I say, protect him. I wrap one arm around his chest and I bring the other one up to stroke his hair, smiling to myself as his fingers dig a little into my sides. "What was it about?"

"I dreamed that you collapsed in the shower…you were crying, and you thought I died, and—"

"That wasn't a dream," I say slowly, furrowing my brow. His eyes fly open and he shifts his head to look at me. "That really happened. You took me out of the shower and brought me here…and you dressed me, and we fell asleep together."

Jace pushes himself up on his elbow, peering down at me with a frown. He lifts his hand and brings it to my cheek, his thumb brushing across the skin underneath my eye. He opens his mouth, like he's going to say something, but I don't give him the chance. With his hips pressing into me, and his arms around me, my veins are melting and the electricity in my stomach has turned to lightning. I need _something _to satisfy this…this feeling. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down. In his surprise, his elbow slips, and he drops onto my chest, our lungs working equally as hard to repel the other pair. Our gazes meet, and he tears his away, his eyes flickering down to my lips, which parted involuntarily when he fell.

The gold becomes black, and he unconsciously wets his lips with his tongue, before dipping his head to close the distance. His lips brush mine—lightly at first, in the way one might dip a toe in a bath before immersing oneself in it, in case the temperature isn't right. But, I don't want testy waters. I don't want caution, and I don't want careful. All my life, I've been waiting for this moment—for my Couple and I to be alone together, and now we finally are. The chemistry between us is undeniable, and we are allowed to do anything but have intercourse.

_Anything._

I knot his hair between my fingers and pull him harder against me, rolling my hips against his and making him groan against my lips. When his mouth opens, my tongue finds his, and our mouths dance together, swirling and jumping to some unheard melody. He rolls so that his body is a cage around mine, our legs entangling together like vines. I nibble at the tip of his tongue and he moans, his back arching up into the sky. One of his hands begins to wander from my jaw, his fingers trailing lightly down my neck, between my breasts. He taps his fingers against my navel and swipes his hand slowly across my hips, pressing his palm into the prominent bone there.

I moan and lift my hips to meet his hand, my heart racing in my chest and my blood roaring in my ears. His hand simply presses harder against my hip, restraining me against the mattress. I let him. There's something about the feeling of being dominated that makes me feel safe, almost. Almost like I'm letting go of my own worry for my own safety, and entrusting that worry to another. All I have to do is focus on being happy, focus on the feeling of pleasure beginning to lick across my skin.

I sigh and melt back into the mattress, careful to still my hips, and I pull at Jace's tongue with my teeth, trying to encourage him to keep going. Of course, he doesn't need encouragement. He trails his fingers back along the waistband of my shorts, snapping the elastic, making me gasp into his mouth. He smirks against my lips, and his fingers begin to crawl up underneath my loose cotton shirt, igniting chills over my body. He pushes the material up so that my entire stomach is exposed. His eyes flicker up to mine momentarily, and I catch a glimpse of how dark they are.

The gold of his eyes is swallowed by the darkness again, and he pulls away from me, letting me tip my head back into the pillow and swallow the air. His lips press again at my neck, and suddenly his teeth are at my skin. He kneads my hips with his palms, and he sucks on the skin at my collarbone, eliciting a moan from me.

This wasn't how I planned for this to go. I kissed him—or, I tried to. I wanted to see the effect I had on him. He already knew the effect he had on me…right? Had I ever gotten the chance to show him the way he makes my bones turn to molten lava, the way he can send sparks twitching through my body with one look?

I don't think I have.

His mouth is on my stomach now, and I have to stuff my fist in my mouth from crying out. Surely these walls are soundproof? For a society so focused on sex, you'd think one might have the privilege of soundproof walls. Jace's tongue stops swirling around my skin, and I'm about to ask him what's wrong when he speaks.

"Mine," he says in a low voice, pulling the elastic band of my shorts down a little bit.

I shiver. I'm his. I am his wholly, completely, and he is mine, wholly, completely. This isn't ownership. This is me surrendering to him, and him confirming that. This is him recognizing that because I surrender myself, he surrenders himself. It's out there. It's in the open.

Something shifted last night. Jace and I have practically launched from being good friends who enjoyed kissing each other to what a Couple is supposed to be. A Couple is supposed to be highly sexually attracted to each other, and right now we are the embodiment of sexual attraction.

"Yes," I breathe, the words taking to the air like a butterfly from a cocoon. "Yours."

Jace grins like an angel fallen from heaven, and he moves his hands from my hips. He presses his lips to my left hip, and he begins to suck there, and I realize what he's doing. He claimed me. He asked for my permission to claim me. I gave it.

And now, he's making sure the world knows I'm his.

Somehow, instead of repulsing me, like I thought it would, it only heightens my sense of attraction to him.

Jace releases my left hip and moves to my right one. I push myself up on my elbows to inspect my bare hip. I gasp when I see the mark he's left. It's enormous, and I can see where his teeth have been. I can see the angry red color of my skin in the dim light seeping through the tiny window in the side wall.

Jace's tongue circling my hip draws my attention away from the already-forming bruise, and I stare at him, my breath coming in short bursts, as if I've just run a treadathon. "J-Jace…" Damn. Even my voice is unsteady. "What are you…what are you d-doing?"

He pushes himself up on his elbows and holds my gaze, his own very serious. "Do you trust me?" he asks.

I nod. "Yes. Of course I do."

He grins like the Cheshire cat from the painting in the Ancient Hall of Literature. "Then lay down and close your eyes."

I watch him for a moment before obeying, letting my elbows slide down the sheets and my head rest against the pillow. He doesn't touch me at all, and my body is tense and taut as a wire. I let my eyes flutter shut, my body warm everywhere except where my stomach is exposed.

"Relax, Clary. Relax."

I inhale deeply, and then exhale, letting the tension go as I do. Jace seems satisfied with this.

He pulls at my shirt, lifting it so that my chest is exposed, and I gasp at the coolness of the air. I'd been so warm, tucked under the blankets and Jace and my pajamas, that I didn't notice how cool the room actually was.

Jace takes a deep breath, and I can hear something hitch in that breath. I grin inwardly, triumphantly. He _is _as affected by me as I am by him.

He cups one of my breasts with one of his hands, kneading it softly in his palm, taking painful care not to graze my nipple, and it's agony. He takes the other one in his other hand and administers the same attention to it. He's pulling and he's pushing, he's circling and massaging and kneading, and though I'm practically pushing myself into his hands, he's still not touching me where I want to be touched. It aches. I want the most sensitive parts of my breasts to be touched, and the ache I feel is between my legs.

My head is spinning.

Finally, _finally, _he touches my nipple, but it doesn't feel the way I thought it would, and it surprises me. Because, he doesn't touch me with the tips of his fingers like I expected. He grazes the tip of his tongue across my peak, sending an electric shock through my body. I gasp and arch my back reflexively, my hands shooting to wrap around his neck, my fingers digging into his hair and pulling him flush against me.

He freezes and pulls back, removing my arms from his neck. He looks at me, and I look away, suddenly embarrassed. "Clary," he says. "Clary, you have to trust me. I can't…d-do this if you're going to restrict the way I move." He takes a deep breath and runs his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more and making me nearly moan at the sight of it. "Just trust me, okay? You can…you can hold onto my shoulders, if you like."

I nod minutely, placing my hands delicately on his shoulders as he leans back down.

His tongue darts out and teases my nipples again, and I grit my teeth, digging my fingers into his shoulders. He grins and I can feel his teeth against my skin, his hands ghosting across my hips. He pulls his head back and blows air on my breasts, and then he takes one into his mouth, sucking gently, his teeth sinking into my skin.

I whimper and arch my back, practically shoving myself into his mouth. His presses firmly down on my hips again, making sure I settle back into the mattress, before his mouth moves once more. He scrapes his teeth gently down my breast, pulling as he goes, and captures my nipple with his teeth. He rolls it between his teeth and it's taking all my strength to keep from telling him to stop. Because I want him to stop, but oh, I don't. I don't want him to stop.

He moves his tongue lazily around my breast before pulling away completely and applying the same attention to the other one.

His hands, which were simply touching my hips, begin to slip inside my shorts, and before I can protest, he hooks his fingers in the waistband and pulls my shorts down to my knees, leaving me utterly exposed to him. He releases my breast, my chest heaving, and he lays his head on my stomach. The only sound in the room is our heavy breathing, but my thoughts are screaming and wondering what he's going to do next.

There's a bolt of electricity between us.

Jace's head darts up, and he's grinning like that Chesire cat again. "Pick a letter," he says steadily. "T or F?"

I furrow my brow, not quite sure if I heard what he said correctly. "What?" My voice is way thinner, and way more breathless than his, and frankly, it makes me want to punch him.

"Pick. T or F?"

I frown. "F…?"

Jace nods quickly and moves back up, and we're kissing again, and he's got my lip between his teeth. One hand encloses around my breast, and the other is slipping down my stomach, very slowly.

His hand cups my core and he murmurs something into my mouth, but I can't make out the words. I'm too focused on how close his hand is and how much I need him to _move _his hand.

I whimper into his mouth, digging my nails in his shoulders, and he grins again.

He moves one finger, agonizingly slowly, and presses the tip against the little bundle of nerves at my center. My eyes fly open and I gasp, unaccustomed to the feeling of another's hands against me. During testing, I was brought to the edge with a machine, a device.

But now, Jace's fingers are what are controlling me, and it's making me want him more with every passing second.

"F," he breathes against my ear. "Is for Finger."

I turn my head and capture his mouth again, and he moans. He begins to press his finger rapidly on my button, occasionally rubbing it in a circle, only to return to pressing.

At first, I keep kissing him, but as that feeling builds inside me, I can't focus on anything but it. I can't kiss him. He moves his mouth to my ear, and then moves it along my neck, sucking and kissing as he goes, his fingers never stopping what they're doing. My mouth is hanging open, my eyes half shut, and my breathing is picking up.

Jace seems to sense everything I'm feeling, and he begins to press and rub harder and faster, making me cry out. My head drops back onto the pillow, my back arching high, and for once, Jace doesn't press me back into the mattress. That wonderful, awful sensation is building again, rising in crescendo, and one thing sends me over the edge.

"Come on, Clary," Jace whispers.

I let out a squeak as he presses hard, and the wave of sensation crests, flooding my body. My body is trembling, and my toes curl, my nails scratching uselessly at Jace's back. I'm vaguely aware of the small, whimpering noises I'm making, but I can't find it in me to care. Jace continues to press and push and rub until my legs are quivering, and my core is throbbing and spasming, and my chest is rising and falling fast, panting.

I groan and squeeze my eyes shut.

Jace removes his finger, and I manage to push myself up on my elbows to look at him. He's sitting back on his knees, smirking like the devil, inspecting his sticky finger with morbid curiosity. He notices me watching him, and slowly, he puts his finger in his mouth, sucking it clean.

I make a face. "That's gross."

"On the contrary," he says, pulling his finger out of his mouth and poking me with it. I squeal. "I like the way you taste."

I shiver. I'm mildly grossed out and turned on at the same time. _Is that even normal? _I wonder. I tear my eyes away from his, looking down. Oh yeah…boys get turned on too.

In fact, Jace's pants look like they're about to rip at the seams. _How big _is _he?_

I clear my throat and pull my shirt back down and my shorts back up, moving myself to a kneeling position, mirroring Jace. "Um…can you…show me?"

Jace raises an eyebrow, dropping his hand. "Show you what?"

I jerk my head toward his pants and he bursts out laughing. I can feel my cheeks burning.

Jace shakes his head. "No, Clary, I—I want _you _to feel good. I can take care of myself, you don't have to."

I frown. "Well, I could take care of myself, too, but it's a lot more fun and a lot more intense when someone else does it for you."

Jace shifts uncomfortably on the bed. I can tell he wants to give in to me. I know he's thinking of what our textbooks tell us, but I don't want him to. I want him to think of _me. _

_Arousal: A Study in Desire (McGraw/Hill, Volume IV, Edition VII)_

_Men should not expect women to relieve them with their hands or their mouths. While men find pleasure in relieving women in this way, women often find it repulsive to do the same to a man. Under __**no **__circumstances should a man force a woman to do what is beyond her duty if it is something she does not want to do. This may tear down trust in the relationship, and without trust, sex is meaningless. Without sex, there is no population growth._

I roll my eyes and scoot so I'm kneeling directly in front of him. Without looking him in the eye, I move my hands, hooking my fingers inside the waistband of his pants—and he stops me. He grabs my wrists, holding them firmly in place.

"Clary," he says, his voice hoarse. "Clary, you don't need to—"

I finally look him in the eye, careful to squash any nervousness or hesitation squirming inside me. "I _want _to, Jace. It's okay. I want to do this for you."

He holds my gaze for a moment, searching my face, and I know that if he finds any sign of hesitation, he'll make me stop. Apparently, though, he doesn't. Reluctantly, he lets go of my wrists and I grin.

I pull his pants down to his knees, freeing him completely. I swallow hard. How is _that _supposed to fit inside me? One day, it will have to, and it will be painful. For the One's sake, I refuse to use _tampons _because the smallest ones are uncomfortable and they stretch me out.

Biting my lip, I reach out and take him in both my hands. Jace tips his head back and groans.

"_Shit_," he mutters.

I grin. This is going to be fun. I trail my fingers softly up and down his length, careful to be teasing, like he teased me. His eyes are shut and his head is bent down, his hands on my shoulders, his fingers digging into my skin. This is almost as much fun as being on the receiving end.

But not quite.

I pull my hands up his length, and I ghost my fingertips across his tip, making him groan again.

"_Clary_—"

_Knock, knock._

I jump away from him immediately, letting go of him and putting as much distance between him and me as I can. Fire lances through my stomach—anxiousness at being caught—but Jace appears completely composed. He sighs and hops off the bed, pulling his pants up as he walks.

I follow quickly.

The front door of our apartment opens to reveal a White Guard, and it's all I can do not to run away.

The guard, however, smiles kindly, and something in his eye tells me he knows exactly what we were doing, and he finds it rather amusing. I can feel my cheeks burning again.

"You are requested for breakfast in your respective Units," he says, his voice official. "It will be like this until you enter Isolation. You will eat two meals a day with your Unit, and you will eat one meal a day with each other. Any questions?"

Jace and I shake our heads.

The guard smiles again. "Good. Thank you for your cooperation."

Jace shuts the door and leans on it, resting his head against it and closing his eyes. "Damn," he says under his breath.

"Hey," I say, poking him in the stomach. "At least I don't have to cook until tonight."

Jace grins at me, looking at me through his lashes. "I'm not hungry for food."

I peel my shirt off and toss it in the corner, and I wiggle out of my shorts, smiling to myself as Jace's eyes fly open. "See you at five," I say, flouncing back to our room to change into my clothes.

* * *

"Spill," Isabelle says, setting down her fork.

I look at her innocently. "Spill what? I can't spill my orange juice, I won't have any left to drink."

Isabelle rolls her eyes. "What did you and Jace do last night."

"Nothing," I say, but my cheeks betray me. It's technically true. We didn't do anything last night.

"Bullshi—"

"Isabelle!" I hiss.

She glares at me.

I sigh and set my fork down. I was almost done with my pancakes, too… "We didn't do anything last night. But, uh…this morning was…an adventure."

"I knew it!" she exclaims excitedly. "What did you guys do?"

I blush. "Forget me and Jace," I say. "What about you and Simon?"

Isabelle narrows her eyes at me, indicating that she knows I'm trying to change the subject. Thankfully, she goes with it. "He's great," she says, shrugging. "We haven't…done anything exciting. Not like you and Jace, apparently, but…" She smiles. "I like him a lot. I have to say, if there's one thing our society knows how to do, it's how to Couple."

I smile into my orange juice, recalling the morning to my mind. "I'll drink to that."

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_**So, there you are. *shrugs* Whatevs. I was trying to make it classy, and in that I took a really long time. You know. Whatever. I really hope you liked it. Let me know what you think!**_

_**Reader's Question of the Week: How many guys do you think I've kissed? **_

_**I'm literally, morbidly curious. (The person who guesses right first gets an extra snippet of the next chapter).**_

_**SHAMELESS SELF PROMOTION: Okay. So. I put another video up on YouTube, and it is of me singing On My Own at my school's spring concert. This is not just a cover, guys. Singing is my main focus in life (no, not writing. SHOCKING right?) I've been taking lessons for years and I've been to so many honor choirs I can't count them.**_

_**SO. HERE'S THE DEAL. EVERYONE WHO WATCHES THE VIDEO AND COMMENTS WHAT THEY REALLY THINK WILL GET A SNIPPET OF THE NEXT CHAPTER.**_

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